15 - Four Days From Pueblo - 15th in the FLAME Series
by RBGirl
Summary: A grisly string of murders that began in Pueblo, lands-via stagecoach-in Dodge City. At the same time, Kitty is trying to work a lucrative business deal, until a secret of Matt's surfaces in the worst way, angering her to distraction!
1. Chapter 1 - And So It Begins

**Four Days from Pueblo**

 **Chapter 1**

 **And So It Begins**

Overnight, the semi-peaceful city seemed to have exploded into a bustling town. The Double R outfit had hit town—restless, thirsty and with pockets full of money. They had hardly made a dent in the fun, when the Bar X herd arrived. Texas was barely big enough to handle the rival crews and now they were rubbing each other raw in Dodge City.

It wasn't just the rival cowboys crowding into the streets. There was also an advance man for the railroad, in town to look over a possible acquisition. Not to mention, there was the sudden influx of various drummers, each making their pitch to every saloon, tool shop and general store in town.

Even had one, touting a fancy metallic burial case—some guy named Fisk had patented the shiny new beauty—claiming that it was air-tight and indestructible. Percy didn't see the need for indestructible, as he'd never had a customer fight his way out of a pine box yet.

To add to the unexpected throng of visitors, Jim Buck brought in a stagecoach full of travelers, late Friday night. However, those six people considered themselves to be more hostages, than visitors. Jim had barely gotten the stage to limp into the city limits, when the axle finally gave way. He had hustled the passengers off, with apologies and assurances, as he directed them all to the Dodge House.

Normally, a good blacksmith could have repaired the problem in a few hours—and Clayton Sawyer was one of the best. Sadly, Clayton was out of town. His kid brother was getting married in Wichita and the Sawyers wouldn't be back for another week.

Jim was the only driver scheduled to make runs to Dodge this week and it was going to take at least three days—maybe four—to pull a coach off of another route and reschedule.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMKMKMK**

Calleigh stared out the window of her dad's office. The bitter black liquid caused her to crinkle her nose, bringing the dainty smattering of freckles into a straight line. "I don't remember the last time Dodge was this busy." She set the cup back on the stove and brushed her hands together, as if to wipe away any trace of the nasty solution. "This swill is going to kill somebody someday."

Matt reached in front of her, to rescue the rejected drink for himself. "Nah, we have two very fine physicians in this town to nurse 'em back to health." He stood beside her, watching the busy street. One hearty swallow made him double-think his decision to drink the coffee. "Want to go across the street for a cup?"

Calleigh gathered up her reticule before Matt had even finished his offer. "Good grief, I thought you'd never ask!"

The Prairie Rose was buzzing with new and old customers. Tia pointed to the corner table by the window that she always kept open for the Marshal or his family. Matt mouthed a silent, 'thank-you' and escorted his young companion toward their table.

"Marshal." Jim Dobie was all smiles as he intercepted the couple. "Business is certainly booming this week." He glanced around the packed room. "Looks like your wife is doing pretty well too."

"Well, she always has had a good head for business." It was no secret that Kitty was the moneymaker in the family. The only ego problem this created, was Matt's tendency to brag on his clever redhead.

"That, she does." Dobie laughed, as he hurried towards the door. "Well, give her my regards."

Matt and Calleigh continued their journey back to the corner. As usual, the staff had anticipated the pair's immediate needs and waiting patiently in the center of the oak table, was a coffeepot and two cups. To the trained server, it was an unusual setting. The pot and one cup were Tielsch Blue floral china with gold trim. The second cup…a plain white ironstone mug. The Marshal had complained about how his brawny fingers wouldn't fit into those dainty little china handles.

Calleigh closed her eyes, inhaling the myriad pungent herbs and spices wafting throughout the dining room. "Are you buying me dinner, too?" She licked her lips, as she reached for the pot to fill their cups.

He leaned in, dropping his voice to a teasing whisper. "Sure. I don't have to pay. I sleep with the owner."

Calleigh gingerly took a drink of the steaming brew. "Not for long, from what I hear." Her blue eyes peered up under half closed lids. She was fully expecting the stunned look on his face. "Bethany told me." She saw what appeared to be panic shine in those clear blue eyes. "The answer to your obvious question is, _no_. Bethany made Betsy promise not to tell Kitty. Like she said, it's your place to do that."

Matt settled back in his chair with a heavy sigh, like a condemned man. "Bethany tell you everything?" He stared out the window, yet blind to all the activity on Front Street. His mind drifted back to the circumstances that had brought him to this point…

 _It had been almost a year to the day since, Thad and Bethany, had departed Dodge for Boston. Bailey Ray Greenwood was born five months later and within a few minutes, his sister, Hailey Lynn had arrived. Still, it was another four months before they were well enough to leave Boston. Dodge just didn't have the proper medical facilities for the two tiny patients. In time, the day finally came when the Greenwood family was due to come home. The young lawman kissed his wife good-bye and left for the bank, to get the necessary funds for travel._

 _Those plans were thwarted, when a man named Picket Biggerly made a terribly bad decision that would change the lives of so many people, in a matter of seconds. In the course of robbing the Southland Bank & Trust, he grabbed a pregnant young woman as a hostage. Thad's territory was Kansas; in Boston, he had no authority and on that day, he was just another customer waiting in line. Still, his training and instinct told him what he had to do and Biggerly's one moment of hesitation, told him when to do it. _

_The actual rescue went perfectly. Something startled the first-time robber and in the moment it took him to look back, Thad drew his own gun and brought the boy down. It should have ended there, but a rookie policeman with one week's experience under his belt, burst through the glass doors. He saw a man with a gun and a dead man on the ground. Two shots went into the tall, blonde U.S. Marshal. Neither was fatal, but both ended his career as a lawman._

Calleigh abandoned her usual spunky banter. "Yeah, she told me everything. Thad has some use in the hand, but he'll never be able to hold a gun. You know he's been studying law this past year with Barlow?"

Matt nodded. "I know. At first, it was just for something to do; but Barlow says he took to it like a duck to water. He's planning on finishing his studying here and then opening up shop in Breck's old office. Dodge needs an attorney."

"Dodge needs a Marshal." Calleigh said quietly, as she lifted the china cup to her mouth. Partially to drink, partially to hide behind. "When are you going to tell Kitty? No. Let me rephrase that, _what_ are you going to tell her?"

He played with the silverware neatly lined up on the linen placemat in front of him. Thad and his little family had been home to visit twice during the last six months. Each time, Kitty had _oohed_ and _ahhed_ over the twins. He knew she would never begrudge anything to the young couple, but this was going to break her heart. "He's not the only man out there capable of taking my place."

"Hmmm." Calleigh dumped a heaping spoonful of sugar into the cup. It was more a way to avoid eye contact, than wanting to sweeten the drink.

Her simple response could either be a sign of reassurance, or doubt in his comment. Guessing it was the latter forced more irritation into his voice than he planned to reveal. "What's that supposed to mean? Our plans don't have to change."

"Don't go getting yourself all upset." She reached across the table, resting her hand on his. "As your doctor, I've got to tell you—it's bad for your digestion." Calleigh waited for the tension to visibly ease from her father's face. "I'm just saying, you'd better talk to her. I know you won't turn that badge over to just anyone. The only two people I can think of right off hand, would be Newly and Thad." An impish grin suddenly lit up her young face, "…and I suppose Festus, if he would ever learn to read."

Matt chuckled at this last suggestion. "Newly told me a long time ago that he would never take it. He loves you too much."

"More than you love Kitty?"

The lawman fell silent, staring into a set of eyes that mirrored his own. "I passed the point long ago where I could measure the love I have for her." The silence that lay between them was one of a comfortable understanding.

Nettie virtually bounced to their table, breaking the silence with an exhausted sigh. "I am so sorry you had to wait this long. We're just swamped today. Did you want dinner, or was this just a coffee break?"

"It was supposed to be coffee, but as usual, _this one_ has wheedled a meal out of me. What is that, that smells so good today?

A burst of giggles escaped the little blonde, before she could stop them. "It's just not the kind of thing you usually order. It's Cornish game hens, stuffed with truffles."

Matt was thoroughly confused and embarrassed by the look that was openly shared by the two women. "What? It's not good? 'Cause it smells great."

"What Nettie's trying not to say, is that she's seen you eat and that little bit of poultry is NOT going to fill up that tank you call a stomach." Calleigh cocked her head to one side, with a playful wink to the waitress. "'Course, you could order a whole flock of them."

The Marshal nodded patiently, while the two women laughed at his expense. "Okay. Very funny, girls. Nettie, just bring me my regular steak with the trimmings. Bring her the bird thing and I'll just eat part of hers."

 **TBC**


	2. Chapter 2 - Kitty's Admirer

**Four Days from Pueblo**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Kitty's Admirer**

Shayne Neivens walked out of the Dodge House, letting his eyes wander from one side to the other, taking in the sights of Front Street. He checked his watch again, to make sure that he wasn't going to be late for his lunch with the lovely Kitty Dillon.

He had read and reread all of her correspondence. Meeting her had been a refreshing surprise. From her letters, he could tell that she was very intelligent. He was impressed to find a woman this far West with such business savvy. But, here she was.

When Kitty Dillon walked into the lobby of the hotel, Shayne Neivens' wasn't the only head that turned. Fiery red hair, upswept into a mass of curls atop her head, gave her a regal air. He had seen a bouquet of roses once, at a fancy New York florist. They had been bright red, but the edges were burnt-orange, giving the illusion that they were on fire. Mrs. Dillon's hair aroused the vision of those flowers. Shayne wondered if they had the same sweet smell.

Complimenting that hair were the brightest sapphire eyes he had ever seen. Yes sir, she was the whole package: Great body, beautiful face—and brains. As far as he could see, her only flaw was that mammoth of a lawman that she claimed as her husband.

Neivens had managed to keep Kitty Dillon busy most of the morning, checking out various sections of acreage at the Land Office. In addition, the beautiful woman had agreed to meet him for lunch. Shayne shrugged his shoulders to adjust his jacket as he straightened his tie. If he played his cards just right, he might be able to swing dinner, too.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMK**

Restly Finch tapped on the window glass on his way to the front door of the jail. It was unusual to see Finch in town on a Saturday morning. Normally, he would be making sure that all the chores were done and all the side work completed. Because Saturday night...was _his_ time—finally—to cut loose.

He pushed through the wooden door, more sick, than excited. "Marshal, I found something you gotta come see. Well, not some _thing,_ " he corrected himself, as he swallowed back the bile brought to life by the memory, "More like, some _one_. At least she was someone…once."

Matt wasted no time, rising from his desk and stepping across the room to retrieve his gunbelt. "Where did you find her?"

"Out on the edge of town, Marshal. On Ridge Road, just before you get to old man Crowder's place. I was bringing the wagon in to pick up some supplies and I thought I seen something in the ditch. When I pulled over…" His face twisted in a grimace, as he reluctantly recalled the repulsive sight. "She was all bloated…and looked like something had been…taking some bites out of her."

Matt motioned for Finch to lead the way and the two men stepped out onto the boardwalk. Restly climbed into his wagon and waited for the Marshal to take his place atop the faithful buckskin. Matt pulled Buck away from the post, then stopped to yell at the boy leaning against the side of the bank. "Billy Tindle! Run up to the clinic and see if either of the docs are there. If not, check the Prairie Rose too. If you find one, send them out to Ridge Road." Billy nodded and took off.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMK**

"So, is he cute?" Calleigh grinned, as she continued to give her mother a hard time. "I heard he has a head full of coal black curls, with just a touch of silver at the temples. Kind of sexy, huh?"

A heavy sigh preceded a single word. "Stop." Kitty returned to her coffee, trying to ignore the young woman's teasing. "This is strictly business. If this acquisition goes through, it will be _very_ profitable for our family. THAT is all I am concerned with."

Calleigh waved her hand in the air to brush away her mother's words. "I should have known better than to ask. You only have eyes for that giant lawman—for some unknown reason." Kitty's silence only verified her daughter's deduction. "This Neivens must be pretty impressed with you."

"If he is, he hasn't said anything."

"Oh, comon! A woman... 'knows' these things." Calleigh threw her head back, tossing the fiery curls away from her face. "You can just kind of _feel_ it when a man is attracted."

Now it was Kitty's upturned face that wore the beaming smile. "You mean, like a certain unnamed rodeo rider?"

The mouthful of coffee had barely started its journey to the stomach, when a fit of choking brought it bubbling back up through that cute button nose. Calleigh coughed and sputtered, while Kitty just looked on with a contented, triumphant smile.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMK**

If Billy Tindle had arrived only a few minutes later, Calleigh would have met the mysterious railroad man; but as it was, they merely passed in the doorway of the Prairie Rose.

Shayne Neivens spotted the attractive redhead immediately. He worked his way over to the table. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting, Mrs. Dillon."

"No. I was just having coffee with my daughter. You just missed her." Kitty snuck a peek at his sideburns, along with a second overall look. True, some might consider him handsome, but Calleigh was right. She only had eyes for a certain lawman—the one with those clear blue eyes; that strong chin and sculpted cheeks. And those arms-

"Mrs. Dillon!" Shayne had already called her name twice, this time with a slightly sharper tone.

Kitty blue eyes snapped to attention. An uncomfortable heat threw a rosy shadow across her face. "Oh, I'm sorry! I was…" She shook her head and tried to move forward with the first thing that came to mind—or perhaps the second. "You really must try the pie here. It's excellent."

Once the initial awkwardness had passed, the lunch went very well. Kitty couldn't help but notice that Nievens did have a tendency to drift from business, to personal, but she was able to steer him back quite easily. The meal was served, and just as she'd touted earlier, the food _was_ wonderful. Shayne was very impressed and was not shy about telling her as much.

Kitty had reached for her reticule and was about to make her excuse to end the lunch. Once again, timing was everything. Had she only left a few minutes earlier, her husband would not have found himself in very hot water.

She closed her eyes at the sound of that irritating voice. "Hello, Miss Kitty."

"Hello, Burke." It took every effort to conceal her annoyance, despite the fact that he hadn't said or done anything—yet.

"I was so excited when I heard the news…" And there it was! He was like a rabid dog, frothing at the mouth to spit out a juicy piece of gossip.

Kitty knew better than to ask, but he wasn't going to go away until she did. With an annoyed sigh, she gave in. "What news, Burke?"

Whatever he was about to say didn't interest her, but Tia's sudden rush to silence him did. "Mr. Burke. Your table is ready." The slender blonde grabbed him by the arm, making every attempt to pull him away.

Try as she might, he blurted out the words before the young hostess could stop him. "The news that the marshal…I mean your husband... is not going to retire after all. I guess you must be really disappointed."

Burke got the exact reaction he had hoped for. The marshal's wife was dumbfounded. She _did not know_! "Oh my gosh, you didn't know, did you, Miss Kitty?. I am _so_ sorry. But, I guess these kinds of decisions _are_ best left to a man."

Kitty's blue eyes turned to the young waitress. Burke, she might not trust, but everything on Tia's face confirmed his statement. "What is he talking about, Tia?"

"Well Thad-" The nosey man began eagerly, but stopped abruptly upon command.

"Shut up, Burke!" Kitty leveled a gaze at the intruder that caused him to wither back into silence. She figured Burke's version was seasoned with gossip, but Tia would have gotten her information firsthand from Bethany.

"I'm sorry, Miss Kitty. Bethany made me promise."

Kitty could tell that the young girl was near tears and the situation was getting out of hand. Besides that, she really didn't want to have this conversation in front of the town gossip, or a stranger. "Shayne, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to end our lunch. I need to talk with Tia. I hope you understand."

He understood that Dillon was in trouble and that put a smile on his face. "Certainly, I understand. Maybe we can finish our discussion over dinner?"

"No. I'm afraid not. But I'll get back with you, perhaps sometime tomorrow."

It was not the answer that Neivens wanted. However, he smiled graciously, paid the tab and departed.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMKMK**

Matt stood over the decaying corpse wearing the same grimace that Restly had worn back in his office. The hot Kansas days had not been any kinder, than the four-legged scavengers that had obviously stopped to sample the sun-baked fare.

"I don't suppose you know who she was?" Matt pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and nose, to help ward off the smell molesting his senses.

Restly, stood way back in the middle of the road. He had no interest in looking at her again, and definitely not enduring that smell! "No. Even if I _had_ seen her before, Marshal, I sure wouldn't recognize her now."

 _That's a fact,_ Matt thought. Before he could respond, he heard the sound of hoofs and looked behind him to see Calleigh coming down the road. He climbed out of the ditch, back onto the dusty thoroughfare to stand beside Restly.

Calleigh jumped down from Belle and followed Matt's eyes that directed her to the body. Unlike the two strong men that kept their distance from the corpse, the tiny redhead was neither repulsed, nor frightened by what she encountered. It was several minutes, during which she made initial observations, before the young physician spoke up.

"She's been strangled." Calleigh knelt down closer to the body. "This is odd; I think there are actually three sets of bruises." Doubt plagued her face. "It's somewhat difficult to tell..."

Matt stepped closer, leaving Restly alone, "What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure yet. The body's been ravaged by… what looks like coyotes. Know who she was?" She glanced over her shoulder to see both men shaking their heads. "I would say she's in her thirties, maybe a little younger. Her hands are calloused, so she knows hard work. Did you talk to Shel Crowder?"

"I did, but he didn't know anything helpful." Matt reached forward, giving Calleigh a hand up out of the ditch. "What do you want to do?"

"Get the poor thing buried, I guess. There's not much more that I can determine from her corpse now. Too much of the body is gone. Like I said, she was definitely strangled."

 **TBC**


	3. Chapter 3 - Secrets

**Four Days from Pueblo**

 **Chapter 3**

 **Secrets**

The Dillon kitchen was the heart of the house. As usual, Kitty was working on dinner—with Calleigh's assistance of course. The two youngest Dillon's had already been reprimanded twice for running through the kitchen. Even Doc had been chastised for trying to sample the biscuits.

"You're awfully quiet tonight. Something wrong?" Calleigh continued to stir the gravy as directed, but her eyes glanced suspiciously toward the main cook.

"Nothing's wrong. I just want to get dinner on the table."

Calleigh recognized that sharp, clipped tone. _Somebody's in trouble_ , she mused, knowing for once—thankfully—that it wasn't her. Still, she risked a closer look and was met with a pair of sapphires that went waaaay past cold and were nearing frozen. Only one other person could make Kitty that mad.

"The gravy is done. I'm going to start setting the table." Calleigh stepped over beside her mother to retrieve a stack of plates.

At that moment, Calleigh heard the heavy steps of the marshal coming through the back door. Of course, the first place he headed was to Kitty. Matt slipped up behind his wife and nuzzled a kiss on her neck. The younger redhead turned, plates in hand, just in time to see the expression on her mother's face. The daughter encountered eyes that no longer sparkled, but simply _sparked_ with a quiet rage. Matt had moved away, never realizing how much danger he had been in.

Dinner made its way to the table and the seats began to fill up. For the most part, it was an uneventful evening. There was conversation, laughter and teasing. There was also one _very_ quiet Dillon.

"Sweetheart, you're not eating. Are you feeling okay?" Matt reached for Kitty's hand, but quickly drew back when she cast him a look that would have shriveled a lesser man.

"I ran into Burke today." Even though she managed to control her voice, the anger clearly seethed just below the surface. "And he just couldn't wait to tell me the latest gossip."

She had the attention of every adult at the table—all but one. Calleigh realized straightaway that Burke had somehow found out about Thad. "He was _very_ excited to tell me about Thad's decision to practice law."

The silence that fell over the table stemmed from a mixture of emotions. Doc was the first to comment, from a medical point of view, of course. After hearing the extent of Thad's injuries, he wasn't surprised that gunplay on the former deputy's part, would no longer be a choice.

Newly and Festus were happy that their friend had settled on a new career and were very excited that the Greenwood family would be coming home.

Where Calleigh had seen the freight train coming, it took the others a bit more time to get on board and understand the full impact of this news. Conversation began to wither. It was at this point that everyone at the table became aware of the heated silence between the marshal and his wife.

Kitty's lips turned up at the corners in a superficial smile. The fire behind those eyes held only contempt. "Well. I guess if _Burke_ knows—everyone knows." She paused, only to rein in her tempestuous emotions. "…Everyone— ** _but_** me. But then, I guess if you've made that decision for OUR future all by yourself…well then, you didn't need to confide in me at all. Did you?" She paused as if there was going to be a comment made by anyone at the table. "How did he put it...?" This pause was purely for effect. "Oh, yes… 'these kinds of decisions are best made—by a man'."

The air between them was nearing a combustible point and it had become an 'every man for himself' mindset. Calleigh made some flimsy excuse for leaving, as she snatched up Hadley and motioned for Newly to grab Cooper. Doc mumbled something about old man Patterson's gout and followed suit. Festus stared at the empty seats surrounding him. He wondered for a fearful moment, if his eyes looked as scary from the outside as they did from the inside. No words were said, no excuses made, just the jangle of spurs as he disappeared out the door.

Matt felt his heart in his throat as he pondered his options. It didn't take long to contemplate the fact that he had zero choices. His gaze remained on the back door, envious of those who'd been lucky enough to escape. It wasn't just being in trouble—he could deal with that. Heaven knows he'd had plenty of experience in _that_ doghouse. His dread was for the ultimate pain that the full truth was going to cause Kitty. It was the very reason he had held off telling her to begin with.

"Can we talk about this?" The words had scarcely left his tongue than her frigid blue eyes snapped directly at him. "Okay. I _know_ I should have said that sooner. I'm sorry. But I'm saying it now."

" _Nathan Burke_! I have to find out from the biggest gossip in town, that MY husband is NOT going to give up that damned badge? In front of everyone at the restaurant, no less!" Kitty closed her eyes, fighting to bring her voice back under control. "How long have you known?"

"Kitty I-"

"HOW... LONG… HAVE… YOU… KNOWN!" The battle for control was lost as she bit off each word.

"Just a couple of weeks." Matt could no longer face her. With head bowed over his uneaten dinner, his words were barely audible. "I knew you would be disappointed and… I…I didn't want to hurt you."

"You 'didn't want to hurt me'?" The words, uttered in a pathetic laugh, ended with a sob that forced her hands to her mouth. Eight slender fingers lined up like sentinels pressed against her lips to keep her thoughts from springing to life. The oak dining chair toppled to the floor when she suddenly jumped, needing to escape his presence.

Matt wadded up his napkin, crushing the small piece of cotton between his powerful fingers as if to punish it in some way for the outcome of their argument. In the next moment, he set it free—tossing it onto the table. The big man was suddenly bone-tired, as he drug himself from the chair. The slamming of their bedroom door had echoed throughout the house, but he still had to try.

After climbing what seemed to be a thousand feet of stairs, he finally reached the door—that finely carved piece of oak that separated him from the woman he loved. Matt rapped his knuckles lightly against the polished wood. "Kitty? Sweetheart…I… I…was going to talk to you. I…just needed time to think." He could hear her moving about in the room, but she offered him only silence. "Please talk to me."

He was leaning against the wooden frame of the door when he heard the gentle snick of the handle. Matt felt his heart rise to his throat, in hopes of a second chance. Slowly the door opened, but it was not what he had hoped. Instead, Kitty's red eyes and tear-stained cheeks blatantly accused him of causing her pain. In her arms lay a folded blanket and his pillow.

"There are two empty bedrooms…" she reminded him quietly. "…And according to Festus, the sofa in the study is _very_ comfortable. You should be able to do your thinking in any of those places." Kitty held out the bedding and then quietly closed the door, once he had taken them off her hands.

Matt stood, reminiscent of one of those marble statues they had seen when they were in Boston. Even his heart felt as if it had been entombed in stone. In all of their years together, Kitty had never cast him out of her bed. The closest he had come—up 'til now—was when he'd made a fool of himself over Calleigh. Then, he'd brought the child back after she ran off, making Kitty so happy, she forgave him everything. Something told Matt, it was not going to be that simple this time.

 _This_ was different. _This_ was about trust. The one thing that had never wavered in their twenty years together, was the trust and honesty that helped bind them together. Matt leaned back against the door, too tired to take another step. Gravity became his friend, as it gently guided him down the detailed carving of the bedroom door.

Kitty paced aimlessly around the spacious bedroom. Without Matt's hulking frame, the room seemed even larger, emptier. It was definitely lonelier.

The question just kept circling around in her head: _Why_ would he make a decision like this one alone? Hadn't he always valued her opinion, as she did his? Matt had never treated her like one of those sodbuster wives that simply followed the lead of their 'man'. Quiet. Obedient. She respected him as the man of the family, but she would never kowtow to him. No. Kitty Russell had never been _any_ man's underling and she did not take on the position of the 'Marshal's Wife' to assume such a role!

What was bothering her the most—that he made the decision without her, or that that badge had won, yet again!? Or, was her pride hurt because everyone imaginable seemed to know, _but_ her. Kitty felt the rush of tears threatening to overtake her again. How odd, that the one person that could always make her feel better, was the one person she couldn't turn to now, when she needed to most.

All thoughts vanished, except for the one that told her to find Matt. Quick and sure footsteps took her to the door, but just when she felt the cool brass handle between her fingers, that little voice spoke up again...the same one that taunted her of his betrayal. Kitty turned around, trusting the strength of the heavy wood to support her. The door did its part; it was her knees that buckled under the stress. Surrendering to the onslaught of overwhelming emotion, she let her body slowly slide down to the smooth, hardwood floor beneath her feet.

Kitty was unaware of Matt's presence on the other side of the door, but he was well aware of hers. Why couldn't she scream at him? Maybe hurl vicious threats? Throw something—something expensive and breakable. ...Or, yell out, swear an oath that if he ever did something like that again, she would have Calleigh shoot him!

But she didn't.

Instead, she simply cried

 **TBC**


	4. Chapter 4 - Cord Daken

**Four Days from Pueblo**

 **Chapter 4**

 **Cord Daken**

Calleigh saw the oversized, forlorn figure through the plate glass window of the Prairie Rose. When she tilted her head to the right and squinted one eye, it looked like his face was framed inside the fancy scripted letter of the giant 'O' in Rose. There he sat—chin resting in the palm of his hand, long faced, morose, sullen and lonely.

The way she saw it, he had wedged himself securely between a rock and a hard place. Anna Marie Dillon had given life to a son, Matthew Aaron; but destiny had given birth to Marshal Matt Dillon—and there simply was no way to separate the two. Even when he tried to walk away, fate would sabotage his plans.

Calleigh slipped to the back of the dining room in order to have a word with Tia. The young blond glanced over at the despondent marshal, before meeting her friend. "You here to rescue your dad?"

"Yeah." The two girls sighed in unison, as they shared the pitiful sight. "He really stepped in it this time. Nathan Burke… Of all people!"

"I tried to stop him, Calleigh, I swear. But he just wouldn't shut up!"

Calleigh offered a reassuring smile. "We know you did. Nothing will shut up that garbage trap when he's got a load of gossip to dish."

Tia settled one hand on her hip, as her gaze returned to the marshal. "That breakfast has been sitting in front of him for over an hour. All he does, is ask for more coffee."

Calleigh gave her friend's arm a friendly squeeze. With a grimaced smile, she finally weaved her way to the corner table and plopped down across from her dad. "When you didn't show up for breakfast, I figured I'd find you here." Tia was right; nothing on the plate had been touched since Beulah Silks had slid those eggs on top of the steak and spooned on a pile of potatoes.

"I didn't think I'd be too welcome there." He gave up trying to pretend he had an appetite and shoved his plate away.

"Did I see blankets and a pillow in the study?" Even Calleigh was surprised by this development. She found it hard to believe that Kitty had turned Matt Dillon out of her bed. "Did you sleep there?"

When he shook his head no, she was relieved—but that only lasted until he clarified his answer.

"Actually, I slept on the floor outside the bedroom door. I listened to Kitty cry all night. Did you talk to her this morning?"

Calleigh swallowed, with that faint grimace reappearing. "She wasn't in the mood to talk. But I will." She added quickly. "I'm so sorry. I know you were just waiting for the right time to tell her." Her words were not helping, so she reached across the table, laying her hand atop his. "She'll forgive you... in time"

"But will she trust me?" Matt knew Kitty would forgive him. She loved him. But, earning her trust back would be a little more difficult.

Calleigh reached over to help herself to a cup of coffee. She thought it best to change the subject. "Any news on the body found on Ridge Road?"

"Maybe. Curt Reynolds hired a woman to do some housecleaning for him, while his wife is back East, visiting relatives. He said her name was Sinnie Myers. Curt's not sure where she was staying, but she just stopped showing up last Friday. From his description, it could be her."

"Hmmm. That's a shame. Not much of a way to welcome a newcomer to Dodge, is it?" Calleigh started to say something more, but was distracted by something outside the plate-glass window. "It's Newly. He's coming this way. He's looking for one of us." Tiny lines formed on her smooth white forehead. "It's you he's after."

Matt twisted around until he could see the young deputy coming closer. "How do you know he's coming to see me?"

"Cause he's not smiling." There was a brief pause before adding. "And he would be if he were coming to see me," she grinned. "That, and he's got someone with him. Yep, from the serious look on his face, I'm guessing he's looking for you." Matt leaned to one side to get a better look at the barrel-chested man walking beside Newly. Calleigh was right, both men looked serious.

Newly led the way through the busy dining room toward the corner table. The stranger was close enough to be the deputy's shadow, but the silhouette was all wrong. Even if one counted in the five or six inches of his hat, the visitor was still not as tall as the younger man. What he lacked in height, he certainly made up for in muscle and bulk. His salt and pepper hair added to the illusion of a more seasoned man than just his forty years.

Calleigh could see the tension in Newly's face when he introduced the man. "This is Cord Daken; he's the sheriff over in Pueblo. Sheriff, this is my wife Calleigh O'Brian. She also happens to be Marshal Dillon's daughter and one of the town's doctors."

Daken removed his hat, tucking it under his arm. "That's quite a list of titles, ma'am..." A deeply tanned hand grasped hers, like leather encasing silk. His smile was forced, but she accepted it just the same.

"Sheriff, have a seat." Matt motioned for Tia to send more cups to the table. "Are you here on business?

"It's business all right, Marshal." Daken accepted one of the chairs along with the cup of coffee. He had a haggard, weary look about him. Not just his body, but it seemed as if something inside had been hurt real bad. There was a raspy quality to his normally smooth, firm voice. "There was a woman murdered back home, a week today. I followed a lead up to Cripple Creek, but it turned out to be nothing."

Daken paused to sample the coffee, but his small audience knew by the pained expression, that the words he had yet to say stuck in his throat. "While I was gone…my daughter was... killed." He dropped his gaze, taking refuge in the lifeless flowered china cup, as opposed to the pity offered by the faces around him. "I believe both women were killed by the same man and... that man rode into Dodge on the last stage."

Matt couldn't keep his eyes from wandering to his own daughter, before addressing the sheriff. "You give me a name and we'll go arrest him right now."

"I'm afraid that's my problem, Marshal. I don't have a name. My Chloe …well she's a pretty girl, sweet but her head's all full of this romance. She didn't want me to know about this stranger. The only thing I can tell you is what her closest friend knew: He was handsome and leaving on the stage the next day."

"Why didn't you stop the stage?"

Daken released a hard breath, one born of both anger and frustration. "Because I wasted all that time in Cripple Creek, I've been a step behind, this whole trip."

"How can you be sure he didn't get off at one of the other stops before here?" Matt didn't like playing devil's advocate, but it was a necessary question.

A look of understanding passed between the two lawmen, as though Daken had been expecting the question. "I've been to each one of the stops. I know who got on and who got off. Out of the six that ended up here, five of them came from Pueblo."

"Do you even know which five?"

The lawman's body settled back into his chair. His days of traveling were definitely catching up to him. Even the shake of his head seemed to be a weary chore. "Afraid not. The man at Lamar remembered a man getting on. but all he could recall was that it was an older fella. He wouldn't have been the man I'm after anyway. Garden City said no one got on, or got off."

"Matt!" Newly pointed to the window where a thin, bushy haired boy knocked feverishly against the glass. "It's Prid Cannon. He looks scared to death." The trio of lawmen rushed from the table to the frantic young boy outside. Calleigh followed behind—far enough to stay out of the way, but close enough in case she was needed.

Prid was about half-crazed with fear and shock. "It's Bessie! Marshal, it's Bessie." He screamed repeatedly. "I found her. I found her. She's…" Matt tried several times to get more information out of the terrified boy. Eventually, he gave up and just followed Prid, as the boy bounced nervously and pointed down the alley, rehashing the same words. They finally reached the back doorway of Shample's Leather Goods.

Laying in a crumpled heap, was Prid's sister, Bessie Cannon. Long strands of dirty blonde hair clung to her grey, lifeless face. Faded blue eyes stared blankly into a world she was no longer a part of. Bessie was a woman long past her prime. Even though she had sampled many husbands in Dodge, she'd never had one of her own. It was old gossip that Prid was not really her kid brother, but her son. The rumor also whispered about several prominent men that just might have been contributors to that gene pool, but none of the names were ever said out loud. After seventeen years, it really didn't matter much.

Matt glanced over his shoulder to his daughter. Calleigh knew, from Prid's erratic behavior, that her services were most likely going to be needed. She had hoped as a healer, but that was not to be. Quickly kneeling down beside the body, trained hands began their examination.

The marshal stood up and laid a consoling hand on Prid's shoulder. He felt the boy shudder as his eyes remained fixed on the only family he had. Brother or son, Bessie loved him and tried to do right by him. She made sure he went to school long enough to learn to read and write. Even sent him to Sunday School, to make sure the good Lord would know who he was.

"Can you tell me anything, Prid?" Matt questioned softly.

Prid wiped away his tears with the cuff of his sleeve, making sure to catch the snot dripping from his nose before it landed on his shirt. "She went out late. On a date." As usual, he hid behind that shaggy bush of hair and had to peer up at the marshal. Both knew the promiscuous woman's definition of 'date'. Matt didn't embarrass the boy by asking for a name. Chances were, proper introductions were never made to begin with.

Calleigh stood up after finishing her preliminary exam. "Have them take her up to the clinic. There's something I want to check a little closer."

"Do you know what killed her?"

The young doctor faced the marshal. "She was strangled, but it was more complicated than that."

Sheriff Daken had remained quietly in the background, until Calleigh pronounced the cause of death. "Just like my Chloe and the other lady back home," he said, as he stepped out of the shadows. "Do you still think the man I'm after is not here in Dodge?"

 **TBC**


	5. Chapter 5 - Eliminating Suspects

**Four Days from Pueblo**

 **Chapter 5**

 **Eliminating Suspects**

Matt rounded up a couple of guys to take Bessie up to the clinic. He sure didn't like the circumstances, but at least it took his mind off of his personal trouble. When he turned around to the two men behind him, he could tell by their expressions they all shared a single thought.

"Newly, you go talk to Moss. Check in at the Bull's Head and the Oasis, too. See if any of our mystery men ended up there." He adjusted his hat and nodded to Daken. "We might as well go over to the Long Branch and the Dodge House."

Newly took a last glance at the clinic, just in time to see Calleigh disappear through the doorway. He knew how it broke her heart to see her folks at odds like this. He also knew that she had tried to convince Matt to tell Kitty about Thad. Not that he would ever wish anything bad on the man he loved and admired, but Newly sure was glad he wasn't in the marshal's boots. He called out for Moss as he stepped into the livery stable. Right now, they had a murderer to catch.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMKMK**

There was one happy player in the game. Shayne Neivens was monopolizing all of Kitty's time. Part of her didn't notice and the other part didn't care. This wasn't the first venture she had put together, or even the most lucrative. However, this time was different. This ordeal with Matt had left her feeling inadequate. For the first time, she was questioning her own decisions. Maybe she thought she could prove her worth by closing this deal.

Kitty had agreed to meet Shayne for lunch in order to go over the surveyor's reports that she had ordered. The last thing she wanted to do was to schmooze some yes man from the railroad, but... if it would get them closer to sealing the deal, she would do it.

Kitty had stepped into the dining room of the Prairie Rose, when Tia slipped up behind her. The girl wanted to apologize again, but her boss had assured Tia that she understood. _It was Matt's place to tell me, not yours, Kitty had said_. Still, the young hostess wished there was something she could do to help Dodge's golden couple patch things up. As much as she agreed with her boss, the marshal had looked _so_ pathetic! "Mr. Neivens is waiting for you at your regular table."

"Thank you, Tia." Kitty offered a bittersweet smile, as she walked across the room.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMKMK**

Cord Daken followed the marshal through the familiar batwings at the Long Branch. Two sets of legal eyes scoped out the clientele as they walked toward the bar. Even this early in the day, the room was packed with cattle drovers, salesmen and the like. Pete walked down to the end of the bar to greet the lawmen.

"Can I get you a drink, Marshal?" Pete's gaze was drawn to yet another silver badge. "You a lawman too?"

"This is Cord Daken, Pete. He's the sheriff, over in Pueblo. We're needing some information."

"Okay, anything I can do to help, you know I will." Pete wadded up the damp bar rag and tossed it behind him as he leaned down on the counter.

"We're interested in the five men that arrived on the stage Friday night. Do you know if any of them came in here?"

Pete pulled in a deep breath, then, in the next second, blew it out slowly. "You're asking a lot. Half the crew from the Double R was in here, trying to out-drink and out-brag the Bar X men." He paused for a minute and held up his finger as a signal to wait. Pete turned his attention to the young brunette coming down the stairs and motioned for her to come to the bar. "Carrie Sue. Can you come over here, please?"

Carrie Sue worked her way through the crowd, leaving smiles and kisses on her way. "What do you need, Pete?" Before he could give her an answer, a drunken cowboy grabbed her by the waist, pulling her away from the bar. The willowy brunette was more seasoned than her innocent smile implied. Before the situation got out of hand, she had sweet-talked the man into taking a seat until she could join him with a free beer. The drunk staggered away and she turned her attention back to her boss. It was at this point that she noticed the two lawmen. "Marshal Dillon. You're too early. The fighting won't break out 'til the sun goes down." Matt smiled, knowing all too well how right she was.

"The Marshal is asking about some guys that came in on the stage Friday. I know you were working the floor that night. Do you remember if any of them were in here?" Pete wasn't expecting much, considering how packed they were that night. But much to his surprise, Carrie Sue was quick to respond.

"Two men." She turned her big brown eyes toward the lawmen. "One, named Mitchells and the other …uh, Harve Brannigan."

Pete drew back, his weathered face reflecting surprise, as well as admiration. "Now how do you remember two guys, when there was at least a hundred—in and out all night?"

She flashed that winning smile and winked at the marshal. "I remember, because I brought them drinks and sandwiches all night long and they did NOT leave a tip of any kind. Two of the _cheapest_ poker players I have ever seen!" Carrie Sue motioned to Sid to pour her a beer for the drunken cowboy. "I need to get over there before he gets restless. He may not look like much, but he's a _big_ tipper." She grinned and winked again, as she snatched up the mug.

The two lawmen thanked Pete for his help and stepped back out into the afternoon sun. "She's a mighty sweet little girl." Daken seemed genuinely annoyed behind a sarcastic smirk.. "Those two sounded like a couple of losers. Maybe we should shoot 'em—just for sport."

Matt couldn't hide his smile, or the fact that he agreed with the sheriff's suggestion. The marshal readjusted his hat, pushing it further back on his head. "I think we just narrowed down our search to three men..."

"Make it two." Newly stepped up behind the two lawmen. "Moss says the one named Swafford, has been bunking down in the livery stable to save money. He's on his way to Denver, to get married. Apparently, Moss has taken quite a shine to him. Even says he'll vouch for him." Before Matt could respond, his deputy offered still more good news. I also talked to Obie, at the Oasis. One of your men was in there, but Obie threw him out for roughing up Ginny Ann. Seems he's got a bit of a temper and doesn't mind taking it out on the ladies. He could be our man, Matt."

"Get a name for him?"

"All Obie got was, Hocum." Newly had wondered if that was the man's first name or last, but Obie didn't know. "He's about my age and size. Nobody has seen him since last night."

"I'm going to bring Festus in from the ranch. Maybe Wylie, too." Matt slowly let his gaze travel up one side of Front Street and down the other. "Whomever this guy is, he has killed four women, in almost as many days. We've got tension building between the drovers like a powder keg. Spread the word to all the bars—I don't want any of their girls walking home alone." He glanced at Newly, but words weren't necessary.

"She's armed; but I'm still not letting her go out alone." Newly smiled at the thought of his little sharpshooter. "Speaking of which... I'm going up to the clinic and see what she found out about Bessie."

Daken fell into step beside the marshal, as they headed to the Dodge House. "He seems like a nice young man. I was hoping my Chloe would find someone like that." It had only been six days since the sheriff had lost his daughter. Even though he knew it was futile, Cord Daken was doing his best to outrun the pain that was chasing him. He knew that if he stopped long enough to think about it, the reality would surely crush him.

They had started past the Prairie Rose, when Matt caught a glimpse of a certain redhead. His steps faltered and he glanced over at his companion. "Daken, I need to stop in here for a minute, to talk to my wife. I wonder if I could catch up to you at the hotel?"

The sheriff looked past the marshal, quickly spotting the woman with the fiery red hair. Considering what they had learned, he figured Dillon wanted to tell her to be careful. At least he knew he would, if she were his wife. She was a beautiful woman. "Sure. I'll meet you back at the jail."

 **PrairieRosePrairieRosePrairieRose**

Matt gave Tia a half smile, as he made his way to his wife's table. With all that had been going on, he hadn't actually met the railroad agent. As he approached the couple, he took stock of the man so casually sharing a laugh with his wife. Matt was not impressed with the slick looking dude.

Kitty was trying very hard to follow some tedious story that Shayne obviously thought was not only interesting, but humorous as well. She rubbed at her temples, in an attempt to stave off the headache that was rapidly forcing its way to the surface. It took a few seconds before she realized that Neivens had finally stopped talking. When she opened her eyes, she was even more confused, by the odd look on the agent's face. It wasn't fear, exactly, but it was definitely a cautious expression. It was then she heard that voice.

"Kitty, I need to talk to you for a minute, if Mr. Neivens will excuse you." Shayne rose to his feet and offered his hand, as he volunteered his given name. Matt stepped beside his wife's chair, reaching out to accommodate the agent. "Kitty." He quickly dismissed the other man's presence, when he turned his attention back to his wife. "Could we step back into the kitchen?"

Kitty gathered her reticule and stood up. "Shayne, I'm afraid we'll have to discuss this later." Matt stepped back, to let Kitty lead the way. But when they cleared the table, she turned toward the front door, as opposed to the kitchen.

For a moment, he was confused. Matt looked at the kitchen, then back toward his wife, just as she was disappearing toward the door. In a couple of long strides, he caught up to her and grabbed her arm. It was a gentle touch, but when she whirled around, she glared at him as though he had struck her. "Kitty. I…I know you're mad, but this is important. I just wanted to tell you to be-"

Whatever he wanted her to _be_ , she was simply not interested. Jerking free of his grasp, Kitty continued her journey to the front door.

 **O'Brian O'Brian O'Brian**

Newly tried the handle on the clinic door. A streak of irritation darkened his brown eyes when the handle easily turned. Calleigh was standing with her back to the door, examining the remains of Bessie Cannon. The young deputy quietly closed the door and crept up behind his wife.

Calleigh was almost within his reach, when she whirled around, armed with a grin _and_ a gun. "Afternoon, Deputy."

Newly settled back, chagrined at being caught so easily. "You were supposed to keep that door locked! Anyone could have snuck in here and-"

"And what? Get shot? Like I could have shot you." Calleigh laid the revolver back on the table and returned to her work. "I was expecting you. ...Or Matt."

"Hmmm." Newly stepped up beside the young doctor. "Okay, be honest. Did you hear me, or just know my scent?" He knew an answer would never be forthcoming, but he was satisfied with the kiss she gave him. "So, what's the verdict?"

Calleigh pushed the dead woman's head to one side. "See these?" She pointed to multiple sets of bruises. "This is bad. Do you understand what this means?"

Newly looked at the poor woman. He knew, all right. "Looks like he choked her until she blacked out, and then did it again. From the number of bruises… I would say, several times, before she finally died." He looked at his wife. "Was the other woman like this?"

Calleigh nodded. "I think so, but she was so badly ravaged, it was hard to tell." She pulled the sheet back over Bessie and walked over to the bowl to wash her hands.

Newly stared at the sheet, terrified that it could have easily been a certain little redhead lying there. There was a sharpness to his tone that Calleigh knew not to ignore. "I want this door locked when you're up here alone! And I _don't_ want you making rounds by yourself. If I can't go, then take someone from the ranch. Promise me."

Calleigh listened to his demands, as she dried her hands. She folded the towel and laid it on the counter, before turning to face him. This man would die for her and probably die without her. "I promise." She replied softly.

One thing he knew for sure, she would never break a promise. Newly walked across the room and took his wife into his arms. "Come on. I'll get someone to take care of Bessie, then I'll take you home."

 **TBC**


	6. Chapter 6 - A Slight Reprieve

**Four Days from Pueblo**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Slight Reprieve**

Matt left the Prairie Rose and met up with Daken at the Dodge House. Howie gave them the name of the fifth man: Royce Pellman had checked in shortly after the stage arrived, but the desk manager couldn't verify whether or not he had been in his room all of Friday night. He did remember that Pellman was a nervous little man. When he checked in, he asked about a place to eat, but that's all Howie could recall. He didn't remember seeing the man after that.

They had narrowed it down to two possibilities, even though they had no idea where the suspects were at present. The sun was finally beginning to drift toward the west, making every attempt to bring this day to a close. But—the day wasn't going quietly. The brilliant yellow, melded into a sea of red, sharp as a poker in a white-hot flame. Carrie Sue was right; it was going to be a long, wild night.

Calleigh was spending the evening with Kitty, while Festus and Newly had both put on a badge to help Matt control the drovers. Daken was quick to volunteer. He was willing to do anything that would keep his mind off of his daughter. With the size of the crowd, Matt not only accepted Daken's offer, but felt it prudent to deputize a couple of men from the ranch as well.

The six men began their rotation of the bars on Front Street—weaving in and out, working through the crowds in order to keep the fighting at a minimum and the gunplay to zero.

 **LadyK LadyK LadyK LadyK LadyK**

Kitty met Calleigh in the hall outside the children's bedrooms. They shared a weary smile and slipped their arms around each other. "I sure could use a glass of brandy about now."

Calleigh cast a sideways glance, getting a better look at the woman beside her. "No coffee?"

Kitty stepped away, as she started down the steps. "Not tonight, sweetie! I need something a whole lot stronger than caffeine. If the brandy doesn't do it, whiskey will be the next step. The kids were so wound up tonight. I swear, it seems like the whole town has gone crazy!"

Calleigh stepped onto the polished floor of the foyer. "I'll meet you in the kitchen." She disappeared down the hall, leaving Kitty to secure a bottle of Napoleon from the study. By the time the younger woman had poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, Kitty arrived, brandy in tow.

"It's cooler outside." Kitty acquiesced with a silent nod and followed her daughter. They settled in, with the bottle between them, nestled in the grass. "Want to talk yet?"

"Sure. Why were you wearing a gun when you arrived?"

Calleigh's blue eyes darted to her companion. "That wasn't what I meant by 'talking,' but since you asked… Newly wanted me to wear them. You know—because of the killer?" Calleigh could tell by the vacant stare in Kitty's eyes, that she was completely unaware. The young woman squirmed around in her chair, pulling her legs beneath her. "Are you telling me that Matt didn't tell you to be careful?"

Suddenly, the light went on. It was obvious, by the chagrined expression, that _something_ had taken place. "I think, maybe he…tried." Kitty freshened up her drink. "He came into the restaurant to talk to me, but I—kind of walked away."

"Kind…of…walked…away." Calleigh refused to release the sapphire eyes as she tossed the words back—with an added touch of sarcasm. "How long are you going to punish him?"

"Are you taking _his_ side?" Kitty wavered between doubt and a feeling of abandonment.

Calleigh laughed softly as she reached over, squeezing the woman's hand. "Never. I just don't like to see you two at odds. It's not _just_ you two you know." The pair of redheads shared a caring look. "Cooper wanted to know why his daddy slept in the study. He's afraid, Kitty. You know how sensitive he is; and he loves you both _so_ much..."

Kitty blew out a deep breath and held up her hand to stop the onslaught of guilt. "You're right. We've never fought in front of the kids; I never should have done that. I was just so—hurt." She paused, needing to add more brandy.

Calleigh arched her brows over curious eyes. "Aren't you supposed to let that breathe?"

Kitty watched the caramel-colored liquid swirl around in the bottom of the snifter. "What are you—its doctor?" She took another swallow before speaking again. "Its job is just to make me feel better. Or, at least, feel nothing. He made me feel like, after all these years, that damned badge was winning again."

Calleigh turned to face her mother. "Don't you think it's time you stopped giving that piece of tin so much credit? Kitty, that badge did not stop him from marrying you. It didn't stop him from having a family. From building a home. From creating a new life. He has finally relegated it to its proper position: A job. It holds no power over him now. Matt Dillon is a husband, a dad, a friend and a U.S. Marshal. And he is damned good at every one of those."

Calleigh words came to an end, letting the soft sounds of summer fill the empty space. A mockingbird, nesting in the tree above them, began its repetitious whistling. The somewhat shrill sound was buffered by the gentle whispering of a summer breeze, circulating through the trees.

"How do you do that?" Kitty heard the girl giggle in response. There was no explaining her daughter's ability to reach such wisdom, only to revert back into a precocious childlike young woman, seconds later. "I guess I've been competing with it so long, that I didn't realize the battle was over." She studied the remains in her glass. "Of course, That still doesn't change the fact that he made a major decision without talking to me. We have always told each other everything. But this time, it felt like he didn't respect me enough to even ask my opinion."

Calleigh reached for the brandy and poured some into her coffee. "Maybe he should still be in the doghouse, but _not_ the study. What would you have told him if he had asked you about keeping his badge?"

"Up until a few minutes ago, I probably would have hit the ceiling." She tilted the snifter back, enjoying the last sip. "You didn't answer me earlier. Why was Matt trying to tell me to be careful?"

"We have a murderer in Dodge. Along with a hundred crazy drovers, cattle buyers and salesmen. The guy has killed four women in less than a week—two in Dodge. I have a feeling that Matt was trying to tell you he didn't want you wandering out alone. I know the lawmen want all the girls in town to be escorted home."

"Murdered? Four women? Who were they?" Kitty secretly wished she would have at least listened to Matt earlier.

"One was a newcomer to town. They haven't identified her for sure. The other was…Bessie Cannon." That name drew a sharp look from her mother.

"Bessie Cannon! Oh, poor Prid. Does he know?"

Calleigh's expression said more than any verbal response, but she answered anyway. "He found her. He's pretty upset, but for now he's staying with Tom Carriger and his brother."

Kitty nodded absently, her thoughts with the poor young man. "Prid has been doing odd jobs for the Carriger brothers for almost a year. I hope they continue to take care of him."

"Don't worry." She reached over again, giving her mother's hand another squeeze. "We'll all watch out for him. Matt was right, Kitty. You need to be careful, because this guy is _real_ ugly. He strangled those women—but not right away. I found multiple sets of bruising that tells me he would choke them to unconsciousness, then do it all over again, until they were finally dead."

Kitty felt a shiver of repulsion ripple through her body. "That's horrible. How could someone do that to another human being? People can be so cruel." She shuddered again, before moving the conversation in another direction. "Then you're staying the night? I don't want you to go home alone."

"Yeah I'm staying. Newly said they'll be late. It's so crazy in town that Matt even deputized Wylie and Joey to help out."

"Not Bear?"

Calleigh frowned, as she had wondered the same thing herself. "No. Newly said that Matt had another job for Bear."

"Hmmm." Kitty drew herself out of the chair. "Now I feel ashamed. I've been so wrapped up in this railroad deal, that I haven't paid much attention to anything else.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMKMKM**

Festus and Wylie volunteered to stay overnight in town, to let Matt and Newly go home to get some rest. Both were dog tired by the time they reached the LadyK. Newly nodded goodnight as he headed up to the extra bedroom. Matt…headed back to the study.

When he turned up the light, he discovered his pillow and blanket missing. Only seconds ago, he was so exhausted he was ready to drop onto the leather couch and die. But now…now—was it possible that she had forgiven him? Surely, Kitty wouldn't take his pillow just to be cruel?

He quickly made his way up the stairs and paused nervously outside the bedroom door. Matt stared at the handle, debating over his next move. Presuming her forgiveness was not a wise move. Erring on the side of caution, he knocked lightly on the door.

Kitty took a deep breath as she reached for the handle. The large oak barrier opened slowly, until they stood face-to-face. "Come in." She turned around, walking back into the room.

Matt stepped inside the formerly forbidden zone. "Uhm... Does this mean-"

"It means," she interrupted softly. "That our son is frightened. He doesn't understand why his daddy is sleeping in the study. I should never have done that." Matt made a move toward her, but she was quick to put up a hand to stop him. "I am _still_ hurt and…" Kitty brought her hand to her mouth, "…and …I don't know. I just know, I don't want to involve the children in our problems."

"Do you want me to sleep in the chair?"

Kitty walked around to her side of the bed and pulled back the cover. "No. This is your bed too."

"Do you want to talk about it?" The wearied lawman tried to maintain a calm tone, but even he could hear the desperation in his voice. His heart sank when she replied quietly, before rolling over—and away from him.

"No. I'm really tired."

 **TBC**


	7. Chapter 7 - Trouble at the Prairie Rose

**Four Days from Pueblo**

 **Chapter 7**

 **Trouble at the Prairie Rose**

The Prairie Rose was an exceptionally large building. It virtually held two restaurants under one roof. Still, this morning, it was bursting at the seams. It was just short of 11a.m. and there had not been an empty seat on either side of the restaurant since they opened at 7 a.m. Bethany had staffed the Prairie Rose with some really good girls, but even they weren't experienced enough to deal with a crowd like this.

Half of them were still drunk from last night. The other half wanted to hurry and eat so that they could _get_ drunk. Kitty had arrived this morning for two reasons: Obviously, to help; but more importantly, to watch out for her girls. Years of cajoling drunks at the Long Branch had given her the experience needed for this crowd. Despite the seeming chaos, things were going pretty smooth, until a pair from the Bar X, bumped into a lone young man from the Double R.

Bic Fowlers wanted more than anything to be a cowboy. When the Double R was hiring for the drive, he hurried out to the ranch and literally begged for a job. As he was running through his qualifications, his sixteen years suddenly became eighteen, and the dirt farm he grew up on, became a cattle ranch farther south. Beau Carthage knew damn good and well it was all a lie, but he liked the kid and hired him on.

Bic had joined his crew at the Long Branch that morning and tried to keep pace with the big boys, but the whiskey didn't set very well on an empty stomach. He was feeling woozy, and hungry, so he'd slipped away looking for food.

He was quietly waiting for a table, when Trag and Milo, stumbled into the restaurant. Whiskey had been their choice of breakfast drink, and as usual, they had over-indulged. Unlike Bic, they had twenty years between them on cattle drives; and whatever decency either once had—if any—was lost on the trail, years ago. Kitty spotted them instantly. They were trouble looking for a place to land and she didn't want that place to be the Prairie Rose. Her plan was sound, but her timing was off.

Despite the fact that it was Milo that stumbled into the boy, he was quick to blame the youngster. The old cowhand had at least a foot in height and fifty pounds on Bic, but he wasn't going to let this imaginary insult go unpunished. "What'n the heck this lil' little pup from the Double R think he's doing!? Pushin' inta decent people!"

Kitty saw the burly older man square off against the boy. Maybe this wasn't the Long Branch, but she knew that stance. She quickly grabbed Tia and sent her after Matt.

The boy had apologized repeatedly, but his words fell on deaf ears. "Gentlemen." Kitty stepped between the drovers. While Milo stared through black heartless eyes, Bic's pale blue ones exuded only fear. If she was going to avoid an impasse in this scenario, the redhead would have to soothe the ego of Milo Preston. She directed her words to him, as she pointed to a table. "Why don't you two have a seat and breakfast will be on us."

Milo shoved past the owner and her generous offer, to get a good look at the boy. The old cowhand let his hand hang loosely beside his gun, while his partner, Trag, copied his movements. "You're wearing a gun, boy! Use it!"

While Kitty tried to stall for time, the rest of the patrons instantly crowded around the edges of the room, anxious to escape any possible gunfire. "Gentlemen please! There's no need for any of this." Kitty finally stepped back, when the room became surreal, cloaked with an eerie silence.

Aside from some target practice, Bic Fowlers had never pulled his gun. Sweat rolled into his eyes as he watched the older man's hand hover over his .45. The boy's heart was beating so hard against his chest, he was afraid it was going to burst clean out of his body. Suddenly the moment came, as he saw the the other man's hand flinch!

At the same moment, Matt Dillon burst through the front door of the Prairie Rose; gun drawn, shouting for the men to stop—but it was too late. Pistols were already aimed and ready. Shots rang out. Milo was too drunk, even against a novice shooter. Both he and his long time partner dropped to the ground. Matt had brought down Trag and Bic had killed his first man.

The danger had passed, but the boy was still consumed with terror. Bic stared at the badge of the giant U.S. Marshal standing in front of him. They were sure to hang him for killing this man. In a moment of panic, the boy reached out, grabbing Nettie and pulling her in as a shield.

Matt could see the absolute fear in the boy's eyes. He wanted to holster his gun to calm the boy, but with Nettie's life in danger, Matt knew he couldn't do that. What he could do, was not point it directly at him. "Son, calm down. You don't want to hurt this girl. Do you?"

Bic's smoky-blue eyes had reached the size of saucers as he glanced down at the frightened girl, then back to the marshal. He shook his head and slowly let the girl go, but his gun remained pointed at the silver badge.

"Ididn'tmeantokillhim!" Bic rattled his confession so fast. it morphed into a single word. He swallowed the lump of fear that had balled up in his throat and started again. "I didn't mean to kill him, Marshal. I don't want to hang!"

Matt allowed himself a breath. The boy was scared, but the situation was not hopeless. "It was a fair fight. You won't hang. I promise you that." He stood straight, but in a less threatening stance. "We don't hang people in Kansas for a fair fight."

Although Bic's gun was still pointed at the lawman, the way the boy's hand was shaking, Matt doubted he was in any danger, even at this close distance. "Why don't you put that down and we'll talk. I'm sure these nice people can scare you up something to eat."

"You're not going to hang me?" The squeaky tremor had disappeared, replaced by a low steady voice on the precipice of manhood. Dillon, having decades of experience under his gunbelt, could see that the novice gunman's adrenaline level was draining away. The boy's hand was suddenly too weak and wobbly to hold the gun any longer. Slender shoulders sagged in defeat and Matt finally holstered his own gun. "Are you taking me to jail?"

Matt took the gun from the boy's hand and slipped it into his belt. "To answer your first question: No. I promise we're not going to hang you." He laid his hand on Bic Fowlers' shoulder and led him toward an empty table. "And to answer your second question: I'm not taking you to jail; I'm taking you right over here, to get you something to eat."

The dead cowboys were both taken away and slowly, most of the crowd returned to their seats. While this was a common occurrence at the Long Branch, it was an isolated incident at the Prairie Rose. Even so, Kitty was very proud of her staff. Their shaken clientele were soothed and the full-to-capacity Prairie Rose was—in no time at all—back on track and running smooth as butter.

Kitty even offered to send Nettie home, but the spunky young girl refused. The little blonde felt sorry for Bic, and didn't really think that he ever truly intended to hurt her. Since it was clear that Tia once again had matters in hand, Kitty turned to the table with her husband and the young cowpoke.

Bic was watching Nettie, as she hustled around the dining room, taking orders and delivering meals. He looked up at the redhead. "Is she all right?" His huge, sorrowful eyes wandered back to the girl. "Would you tell her that… I'm sorry?"

"I'll send her over here." Kitty smiled at the sincerity in the boy's tone. "Then, you can tell her yourself." She looked at the boy and then back to her husband. "I have to get back to work. You two—enjoy your lunch."

 **LongBranchLongBranchLongBranch**

Trick Hocum pushed through the batwing doors of the Long Branch. It was packed, just like every other bar in town. He had only been to Dodge one other time and he hadn't ever intended on coming back. That marshal was a real hard-nose. Just for raising a little hell, he'd been tossed in jail overnight. Well, maybe it was more than a little hell-raisin' that went on, he grudgingly admitted to himself.

Nothing had gone right for him since he'd got into that scrape in Denver. The only reason he was on the stage through this mudhole of a town, was to try and throw Bob Tillerman off his trail. He sure hadn't planned on stoppin', let alone spending a whole week!

Trick squeezed in at the bar and ordered a beer. At least with this many people, he could hide out in the crowd. Just as he tipped the mug to his mouth, he got a powerful whiff of fresh rose petals. He didn't have to look far for the source.

The pretty brunette leaned into the bar, real close to him. "Pete, I need two beers and a bottle." She glanced sideways at the young man at the bar and flashed him a smile.

Trick dropped his annoyed scowl. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Carrie Sue gathered up her order and paused just long enough to offer him another smile. "I'm pretty busy right now, but if you're still here later—I sure will."

 **MKMKMKMKMKMK**

Matt rolled over on his side, punching up his pillow to give himself a better view of his wife. This was as close as he'd gotten to her in three days. Of course, by the time he got home every night, she was asleep, and he left before she got up. Though they still hadn't talked about the badge, at least he didn't have to spend any more nights on the couch. _I'm making progress_ , he thought.

He watched the even rise and fall of her breast with every breath. Fiery red hair fanned across her pillow, while tiny stray wisps—like flames—licked at her cheek. Kitty uttered a sigh so soft, he could feel it caress his heart. She rolled over, her lovely face now facing his.

"I love you, Kitten." The words were just a thought. It wasn't until he saw the corner of her mouth curve up, ever so sweetly, that he realized he had said it aloud. It stunned him even more when she murmured, softly, "Oh, Matt."

Matt pulled back in surprise. _She doesn't hate me when she's asleep_ , he realized. Strong, but gentle hands, pulled her body closer to his. She snuggled in, offering no resistance. Now, he was at a crossroads: Should he just take the cuddling he was being offered? Or, should he try to work his way back into the coveted position of her lover? Matt buried his nose in Kitty's sweet smelling fiery locks. It took only one deep breath to sway him toward option number two.

Matt managed to slip his arm beneath her head and leaned her back, to expose the face he loved. Hungry lips trailed down the porcelain skin, careful to hold his eagerness in check. When her lips parted, inviting him in for a kiss, Matt Dillon thought he had died and gone to heaven.

The kiss was slow and sweet. Kitty settled deeper within her lover's embrace, wrapping arms around his neck to draw him closer. Her body melted into his, moving in all the right places, in all the right ways. Large, slow hands caressed her body, seeking those secret spots they knew so well...the ones he knew would make her his again.

As Matt's hand slid along the inside of Kitty's smooth, firm thigh, she arched up, pressing warm breasts against her husband's muscular chest. Kitty brushed her lips against his ear, but the words she whispered caught him by surprise. "You're not retiring, are you?"

The same excitement that had coursed through his body only seconds ago, now wilted faster than a starving plant in the summer Kansas sun. She no longer moved beneath him, nor did she utter soft words of love. Matt eased himself away, afraid to confront those blazing blue eyes.

When he finally garnered the courage to look into them, they weren't blazing at all. They were the same loving eyes that belonged to his Kitten. "I will, if I have to choose. I'm not going to lie to you, Kitty, I love this job; but you and the kids—you're my life."

She reached up running her fingers down his tanned cheek. "A very wise person pointed out to me, that you have already chosen." Kitty could tell by his crinkled brow that he was confused. "Calleigh pointed out that the badge didn't stop us from getting married, or having a family."

"Calleigh?" Matt heard her confession, but he was stuck back on the 'wise person' part. " _Our_ Calleigh?"

Kitty laughed, as she raised up to give him a kiss. "I was surprised too, but …she was right. When I watched you today at the Prairie Rose with that young boy…I was so proud of you. He pointed a gun at you. You could have shot him; but instead, you talked him down _and_ bought him breakfast. It would be wrong for you not to wear that badge, when you are so good at it."

"Are you sure you're going to be all right with it?"

"I'm all right with you keeping the job." A sadness overtook her smile.

Matt knew his wife, he knew what the real hurt had been. "I wouldn't have made the decision until I talked to you. Despite what the town crier told you, I never said I wasn't going to retire. I admit, I was torn; but I would _never_ have made that choice without you." He looked into those bright, blue eyes, so full of love and trust. "I just dreaded the whole conversation. That's why I kept putting it off. You're married to a coward."

Her smile was back. It was both genuine and forgiving. "Strangely enough, it has always been a source of pride to be the Marshal's Wife. It's kind of a two-edged sword." Kitty snuggled under her giant lawman. "Weren't you about to make love to me?"

Matt ushered in his boyish grin. It was the same one that always melted her heart. "I sure was, ma'am. I surely was."

 **TBC**


	8. Chapter 8 - The Bodyguard

**Four Days from Pueblo**

 **Chapter 8**

 **The Bodyguard**

"Where's Kitty?" Matt nosed around the pots on the stove, surprised to find them all cold and empty. "And…where's dinner?" He glanced around the kitchen, finally aware that most of the clan was missing.

Doc sniffed and swiped the bristle beneath his nose, displaying his irritation in a familiar gesture. "Well now, just which one of those questions do you want answered first? If you'd slow down, you might learn a bit about your family. For example, Calleigh and Newly, took the kids into town for supper and Festus is eating with the hands tonight."

Matt seemed satisfied with the older man's explanation—as far as it went—but Doc seemed to have overlooked one of the major players. "Well your…wife, is with that Neivens guy again." Doc made no attempt to hide his displeasure as he tugged at his ear.

"Oh, now Doc," Matt shuffled his feet as he leaned back against the counter, "I can't believe that you think our Kitty would-"

"Now, I didn't say any such thing!" The familiar grump had reclaimed its place in the old physician's tone. "I just don't like that railroad man. He's thinking business, all right! Monkey business!" Doc wandered over to the stove to see if there was any coffee left. "And don't try and tell _me_ that you haven't been watching him, too."

Matt looped his thumbs over his vest pockets and watched the other man's disappointment when he found the pot empty. "Let's go into town. I'll buy you supper."

"I don't want to drive back to town! I want dinner here, like we always do." Doc was in one of his moods where nothing was going to appease him. "This has been going on for two days: Going out to survey the area. Going to the land office. Going to meetings. Taking her to dinner **_and_** supper—both days. I keep expecting him to soon be standing on the front porch, ready to carry her off for breakfast!"

This little tirade was going to take a while. Matt quietly sighed, then resumed his position of leaning against the counter. He stretched out his long legs, crossing one over the other, at the ankle.

Shayne Neivens had been corresponding with Kitty, about purchasing some land. Neivens wasn't aware of the fact that the crafty business wizard of the LadyK had actually purchased that land only a couple of years earlier, when rumors started about the railroad coming in. Kitty had done some checking of her own—about the needs and requirements of the Kansas Pacific Railroad—and determined that the land just south of their ranch would most likely be attracting attention shortly.

"I just don't understand you! Big, dumb, civil servant. That's all you are." The old man peeked into the pot again, just to assure himself that there weren't any drops hiding in the bottom. "Some city slicker-dude comes to town and you just sit by with your thumb up your…"

"Okay! You've made your point. Neivens is paying too much attention to Kitty. Believe me, Doc, I've noticed. I'm taking care of it."

"Not to mention the fact that some lunatic is out there killing women. Kitty shouldn't be running around alone at…a…time…" Doc's grumbling began to trail off as the marshal's words began to gain focus in his head. "What do you mean, 'you're taking care of it'?"

A strange look passed over the marshal's face. One that instantly piqued the older man's attention. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. I just meant that I'm watching out for her." But, there was something foreign in the big man's tone. If Doc didn't know better, he'd swear it was a touch of fear. "C'mon. Let's go eat."

"Sure, you got time! You've been so busy looking for this maniac, you haven't had time to keep an eye on that…that railroad lothario!" He paused again, studying the strange look on the big man's face. "So don't go and tell me that the big man **_is_** a little jealous?" Doc seemed to be _reeeally_ enjoying this discovery.

"I'm not jealous, Doc. It wasn't Neivens that I was worried about. It wasn't until after Bessie Cannon and Sinnie Myers were killed, that I…uh…well… Damn it, Doc! Kitty's just so bull-headed!"

The fine physician chuckled softly. "Who'd you give the job to—oh, wait a minute..." His tired old eyes cast a suspicious glance up at the younger man. "Bear. You're having Bear watch her?" Now his chuckle exploded into a full-blown laugh. "Kitty will kill you if she finds out."

"Hopefully, she'll be safe _and_ she'll never know." He slapped his hat back on. "Now, do you want some dinner or not?"

 **MKMKMKMKMK**

Carrie Sue squinted while taking in the morning sun, as she pulled back the curtain. She stretched up to her full 5'7" frame and shook her head back, letting the loose brown curls tumble down. Morning wasn't usually her best time, but today was different. Today, she smiled to herself, she actually had a date.

Not just drinks at the bar, or dinner at the Prairie Rose or Delmonico's—he was taking her horseback riding out to Willigers Pond. A picnic...maybe even a little swim. She danced her way over to the wardrobe and let her fingers run through the colorful outfits. A soft, cream-colored silk blouse caught her attention. It was the perfect subtle piece to illuminate her rich, brown hair and matching eyes. The riding skirt was easy—she only had one. Carrie Sue inspected her choices in the mirror, as she held the skirt and blouse up to her frame.

The skirt was a very expensive, chocolate-colored suede, that Kitty Dillon had given her. Fortunately for her, she was the only girl at the Long Branch who happened to be the same height and size as the marshal's wife. And Kitty was a **very** generous woman. Carrie thought of how jealous the other girls were, but her sympathy was short-lived. "Too bad for you." She announced to the naughty grin that stared back from the looking glass.

The young brunette hummed her favorite tune while she washed up. She rubbed a drop of perfume behind each ear, before slipping on her undergarments. The silk blouse felt cool against her skin, as she slipped the pearl buttons through the holes.

A simple white ribbon was chosen to tie back her brown curls. A fancy do like the one she wore to work would get too messed up riding…and whatever else they might decide to do. Just a touch of makeup was added; at twenty-two, Carrie Sue didn't need much artificial help to look beautiful.

Finally, she slipped on the skirt and boots. One final look in the mirror brought back the naughty grin. "He is one lucky man," she told herself, as she grabbed her bag and slipped out the door.

 **TBC**


	9. Chapter 9 - Who's The Boss?

**Four Days From Pueblo**

 **Chapter 9**

 **Who's The Boss?**

Kitty had tossed M'Lady's reins over the post, when she felt a tug on her arm. It was Shayne Neivens, once again angling for a dinner date.

It seemed as though he were constantly dancing around—rather than closing—the deal for the land. "Let's talk about it over lunch. I had Tia pack a basket. I wanted to ride out to look at the land one more time and figured we could have a picnic."

Kitty glanced at the basket, sitting so proud on the seat of the buggy. She was really becoming weary of this man's attention. Especially today. That headache was back and she just wanted to go home and lay down.

"Not today, Shayne. I've got this pounding headache." Kitty hoped her smile didn't look too forced, but she was really too tired to care. "Why don't you ride on out and get the specs that you need. We'll go over them tomorrow." She started to turn away from him, but he was very persistent.

"Oh, come on, Kitty." He took her arm, gently pulling her back toward him. "Just getting out of town will relax you and the next thing you know—that headache will be gone."

He was quickly passing annoying and graduating up to obnoxious. "Not today!" Kitty made an attempt to pull away from him, but it only caused his grip to intensify. "Shayne, stop!"

A shadow came between them and the noonday sun. Before either of them knew what was happening, an unseen force had picked up the fancy dressed railroad man and tossed him into the horse trough. Shayne came up out of the water, sputtering, screaming, spewing incoherently, with arms flailing about as if he were going under for the third time.

Kitty's bright blue eyes gravitated to the _unseen force._ "…Bear?"

Bear reached over, pushing Shayne down for one more dunk, before stepping closer to his charge. "You all right, Miss Kitty?"

"Were you following me, Bear?" Kitty knew the big man was only doing what he was told and she was pretty sure she knew who told him.

"Yes ma'am. Just keeping you safe." Bear heard the angry, drenched man behind him and gave Kitty a quick nod, before turning around. "You! Go away!"

Shayne was wet and angry, but he wasn't stupid. He would voice his anger at a later time. Pulling himself out of the water, Neivens sloshed his way down Front Street, heading toward the Dodge House.

"I'm fine now. You can go on back to the ranch." Kitty tried to smile, but anger was causing her lips to tighten.

"Can't. This is my job."

"I'm going over to the jail now, so the marshal will protect me."

"Okay. I'll just wait here, ma'am."

"You—no-" She dropped her head, took a deep breath and then turned toward the jail, every step fueled by rage. Kitty pushed the office door open with such force, it slammed against the wall. "You had Bear following me! I'm trying to close a very lucrative business deal with Shayne Neivens and that—that _bodyguard_ just humiliated us both!"

Matt sat behind his desk, mouth open, eyes conveying only confusion. "What? Humiliated? What are you talking about?" He slowly pulled himself to his feet, but maintained a safe distance from the flame-haired hurricane.

'I could have taken care of him myself! I didn't need Bear to throw him in the horse trough!"

Matt leaned to one side and glanced out the window. "Wait. Bear …threw Neivens… in the horse trough?"

Kitty had an uncanny resemblance to Hadley when she stomped her foot, too angry to speak. "Yes!"

Matt knew that if he laughed now, there was a good chance that he would end up back in the study, so he struggled with every fiber of his being to remain serious. "Why did he do that?"

"Why is not important. The point is, I do **not** need a babysitter! Now he's waiting out there..." She pointed toward the street, her finger jabbing at the air. "Tell him to go back to the ranch!"

"Wait a minute." Matt wandered over to the window and she was right. Bear was leaning up against the post, waiting for his charge to come out. "He wouldn't have done that, unless Neivens was bothering you." Matt turned away from the window, but his face no longer struggled to hide a smile. "What was he doing to you?"

Kitty clenched her fists, the blush of anger still coloring her cheeks. "Never mind! Just tell Bear to **Leave! Me! Alone**!" She stomped over to the door heading back to Front Street.

In a surprise move, Matt grabbed Kitty's wrist and pulled her back into the office. He kicked the door closed behind him. Humor was no longer a problem. "Now; you're going to listen to me! I messed up with that whole badge thing and you can send me back to the study if you want. I won't fight you on that. But I've tried to tell you—there is someone killing women in Dodge-"

"But I can-"

"NO YOU CAN'T!" It wasn't often that he raised his voice to her, but this was too important. "It means, you're not safe! You wouldn't let me protect you, so Bear is the next best thing. I will NOT apologize—or call him off."

"But I…"

"Hush! I'm not done. Since the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, I might as well tell you now: I don't want you going _anywhere_ with that Neivens character alone. He's had plenty of time to close that deal by now. I think his interest are focused in other areas!"

"But-"

" **Kitty**! We've been together too long for you to think I'm going to give in to one of your tantrums when your safety is involved! Now you just go ahead and get as mad as you want. Stomp your feet. Yell. You can even cry—but you aren't going anywhere without Bear."

Kitty stared silently into his clear blue eyes. They confirmed every word he'd said. He had burst her bubble of anger, leaving her in an unfamiliar, submissive state. It was a much quieter voice that spoke. "Are you done?"

"Almost." Matt stepped closer and pulled her into his arms, letting his kiss convey the rest. When he finally released her, she looked up at him with a smile of contentment.

"I'd rather have you protecting me…" She snuggled in tighter and whispered in his ear. "…If the offer still stands."

Matt chuckled as he pulled her tighter into his embrace. "It's a lifetime offer for you." He again leaned down to seal the deal with a kiss. They both heard the jail door open, but at that moment, neither one cared.

It was so good to see Matt obviously out of the doghouse, but Newly knew he had to interrupt them. A forced cough quickly broke the couple apart. Kitty boasted a slight blush, but it was unclear whether it was born of embarrassment or satisfaction. "Sorry, but I got news about the fifth man—Royce Pellman."

Matt stepped in front of Kitty to give her a moment to smooth back the curls that had escaped. "You found him?"

Newly offered a sheepish smile. "Sort of…. He's dead." The stunned silence raced ahead of his explanation. "Bugger Snelt found him, out on the prairie in one of Moss Grimmick's buggies. Calleigh says it looks like a heart attack."

"When?"

Once again, Newly's answer was a real stunner. "Looks like Saturday. Moss said he came in there wanting to rent a buggy, to get out of town for some peace and quiet. He was a nervous wreck from all the fighting and gunfire from those drovers."

"The man has been dead for almost three days and no one noticed?" Kitty stepped away from the marshal, her voice mirroring the sadness on her face. "That is so sad. I thought he was a young man?"

"Yeah, well he was, but…." Newly offered a hapless shrug. "I'll have Howie go through his luggage and see if we can find any next of kin." Even though he knew Kitty wasn't blaming him, Newly was the one on the receiving end of those heart-wrenching blue eyes. "We'll take good care of him. I promise."

Matt wasn't ignoring his wife's plight, he was simply more interested in solving the murders. "That only leaves us with one other suspect."

Newly was relieved when the marshal took the conversation in another direction. "Trick Hocum. He's staying in the back room at the Bull's Head. Do you want me to go get him?"

"No. I think I'll just walk down there and have a talk with him." Newly backed out of the office, mumbling something about taking care of Royce Pellman. Matt turned around, sliding his arm around his wife and pulling her closer. "Looks like Bear is going to have to stay on the job for a while longer." The tiny scowl appeared, but before she could give birth to the objections that played on her tongue, he silenced them with a kiss. "Kitty, this is not negotiable."

She settled back, still in his embrace. Matt couldn't hide his amusement as he watched Hadley's pout emerge on her mother's lips. Kitty so desperately wanted to object, but she also knew that Matt was not going to back down on this. "Couldn't I just wait here for you? I mean, you are going to question the man you think is doing this. So I should be safe-"

"And you will be safe." He placed a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. "Safe at home—with Bear keeping watch." Matt steered her toward the door and gave her that needed little push to get her onto the boardwalk. He motioned for Bear to come over. "Bear, Miss Kitty is ready to go home now."

"Yes sir." He stepped back to let the lady pass in front of him. "Ma'am."

Kitty forced a smile to her guardian. The look she flashed at her husband was less agreeable, but still respectful.

 **Bull'sHeadBull'sHeadBull'sHead**

Matt hadn't stopped Daken from accompanying him to the Bull's Head. He wasn't sure he could have, even if he'd tried. The bereaved sheriff had barely slept since he arrived. The aroma that drifted up from his plate, was about as close as he had gotten to eating. The man was running on caffeine and adrenaline.

The loss of a child was devastating. Losing their unborn son in Boston had been traumatic, but when they thought they had lost Calleigh, a child they had raised and loved, it had nearly shattered them.

Cord had an older boy, Seth, that he was very proud of and he spoke of him in loving words. But Chloe was the pride and joy of both the Daken men. Their mother had died in childbirth when the boy was ten. Seth had helped raise and spoil his baby sister, much like Calleigh did her siblings. Matt was worried about what Daken would do if Trick Hocum turned out to be the killer.

Cletus was wiping down the bar when the two lawmen entered. He had already heard the rumors and knew why the Marshal was here. "He's sleeping off last night's drunk in the back room."

"You giving him an alibi for last night, Cletus?"

"I don't like the guy, Marshal. He's a blowhard; but I gotta be honest. He's been in here day and night for almost two days."

"Well, the murders were earlier in the week, so he needs more of an alibi than you can give him."

Matt motioned for Daken to stay put while he slipped into the backroom. Cletus was right; the young cowboy was stretched out on a dirty cot—still dead to the world. The marshal grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him out of his drunken stupor.

"Hocum! Get up." Matt took a step back, his eyes quickly scanning the suspect, to see if he had a gun. The .45, complete with holster, was flung across the back of a wooden chair. Trick was either too hungover to remember he was unarmed, or just reached for his gun out of habit. Either way, he came up off the cot empty-handed.

"What do you want?" Trick eased back down onto the stained, lumpy piece of padding that Cletus touted as a mattress. The bartender never said it was good bed, but he still charged thirty-cents a night to sleep on it.

"Where've you been hiding all week?" Matt stood, with his feet spread apart, his thumbs hooked in his belt and a no nonsense look on his face. "I think you need to come on down to the jail with me."

"I didn't do nuthin'! What are you harassing me for?" Trick was obviously annoyed, but he was smart enough not to try anything physical. He sullenly pulled on his boots to go with Dillon.

"If you're innocent like you say, I'll let you go. But first, you're going to answer some questions." Matt gave the young man a shove, pushing him back into the bar.

Daken was waiting by the front door when Matt emerged with Trick. He saw the sheriff's hand hover over his gun, but was praying that the lawman was still under control. Matt knew Daken would wait until he knew for sure that Trick was guilty.

 **TBC**


	10. Chapter 10 - A Little White Lie

**Four Days from Pueblo**

 **Chapter 10**

 **A Little White Lie**

Doc pulled the buggy up and stopped in front of the jail. "I don't know about this. I don't see Matt in there... Are you sure he knew you were coming?" Too long a silence from his companion suggested an answer he didn't like. He turned to find a pair of sapphire eyes refusing to make contact with his. "Dagnabit! You lied to me, didn't you!"

"I didn't… lie—not exactly. " Kitty hid under half-closed lids. "You know I'm not supposed to go out alone." Now she looked up at him, slightly more defiant. "Well! I'm not alone."

The old physician scrubbed his hand across his moustache, unable to conceal his irritation. "I DON'T think this is what Matt had in mind! I'd give my life for you, but without a gun, or a few less years on this old body, I can hardly defend you, can I?"

Kitty could hear the genuine concern and anger in his tone. "I'm sorry I tricked you, Doc." She reached over, cupping his cheek in her palm, forcing him to look at her. His eyes met hers for only a second, before he pulled free. It wasn't often that he was this upset with her. Shame was starting to poke its head into her normally confident demeanor.

"You don't seem to understand. I'm not mad about me. Kitty, you put yourself in danger when you do things like this. You're always so quick to lecture Calleigh, but… where do you think she gets it?"

Contrition forced Kitty's head down, as she stared at her folded hands. "You haven't been this mad at me, Curley, since I went to town and got caught up in that bank robbery."

Her words evoked a sudden gasp from the old man. Faded grey eyes darted toward his surrogate daughter. He _did_ remember that morning. For the rest of his life he would remember being angry and chastising her. He would also remember how close he came to losing her—and never being able to say he was sorry. Although he was still angry, Doc knew to temper it with forgiveness.

In a softer tone, he reached for her hand. "Please, in the future, remember we are all just looking out for your safety."

She leaned over, placing a kiss to a weathered old cheek. "I will. I promise." Kitty waited while Doc climbed out of the buggy, then offered his hand to help her down. Just as she stepped onto the boardwalk in front of the jail, Tuke Wilberly came running from the direction of the clinic.

"Doc, quick—I need you to come up here! I was going fishing at Willigers and…she was just layin' out there. Dead as can be!"

"Well who is it, Tuke?" Doc glanced at Kitty, his irritation surfacing again because she had come into town on false pretenses. "Isn't Little Doc there? She was supposed to be seeing patients today."

"Tuke shook his head nervously. "Nobody's there. But...you still need to come and see this." Doc looked toward the upstairs clinic, then back to Kitty.

Again, he was torn between his duty as protector and his obligation as a doctor. "I can't very well leave you alone..."

Kitty nodded toward the big buckskin tied to the hitching post. "Buck is here, so Matt hasn't gone too far. I'll lock the door of the jail. It'll be okay, Doc. You need to go with Tuke."

Doc grumbled under his breath, something about redheads driving him to an early grave. He waited until he heard the bolt slide forward on the jailhouse door before heading down the street.

"Come on, Tuke. Let's go see who she is."

 **MKMKMKMKMKMKMK**

Trick walked ahead of the two lawmen. This had to be about Bob Tillerman. If Dillon sent him back to Denver, they would hang him for sure. It had been a fair fight, but it was Tillerman's only son and the old man wasn't accepting his boy's death easily.

Matt Dillon had a reputation of fair play and Trick decided his only chance was to appeal to that sense. "Marshal, if you send me back to Denver, Bob Tillerman will hang me, sure. It was a fair fight. I swear."

Matt scowled at the young man. "I don't know anything about Denver, or Bob Tillerman, but murder is a hanging offense in Kansas, too."

For the first time since the marshal had pulled him out of a peaceful sleep, Trick was more confused than he was scared. "Murder? I haven't drawn my gun once since I been in Dodge!"

Daken's hands hung at his side, his fingers balled tightly into fists. He couldn't hold his silence any longer. "It didn't take a gun, did it, to choke those women to death?"

Those words tripped up not only Trick's feet, but his tongue as well. "Murder!? What...I…what do you…mean, women? I ain't never hurt a woman in my life!" He finally stumbled to a complete stop.

The marshal whirled around, grabbing Trick by the collar. "That right? Then how'd you get thrown out of the Oasis for smacking Ginny Ann?"

Trick dropped his head, while emphatically shaking it no. "No… No, no, no. That was a mistake!"

"Hitting a woman usually is." There was no mercy in Dillon's tone, as that was definitely a sore spot for the marshal.

"No! That's not what happened, Marshal. I was drunk and got into an argument with some guy they called Milo, from the Bar X outfit. Ginny Ann stepped in the way. I would _never_ have hit her on purpose. Obie threw both of us out."

Matt remembered the now deceased Milo from the shooting at the Prairie Rose. Hocum could be telling the truth about Ginny Ann, but that didn't mean he didn't kill those other girls. A big hand went to the young man's shoulder, but before the marshal could push him toward the jail, he heard Doc call to him. From across the street, he saw the old physician and Tuke Wilberly, standing by a wagon in front of the clinic. Doc motioned for Matt to come over.

The marshal walked in front, letting Daken escort the prisoner from behind. From the dour expression on Doc's face, Matt knew something bad must be in the wagon. He could make out the shape of a body under a tattered old blanket. Doc lifted the gray wool cover, just as the three men stepped up. Both of the lawmen were disheartened by the discovery, but it was Trick that uttered words of surprise.

"Oh my gosh! I know her." Trick flinched back, shock etched in every line of his face. "That's Carrie Sue." Just as quickly, shock gave way to sadness. "Ahh, she was such a nice girl. Real sweet."

An eerie silence had found a home in that little corner of Front Street, weaving its way through the circle of men. It wasn't until the young cowboy finally glanced up, that he realized he was the one suspected of committing this horrible crime. Trick staggered back a step. "I didn't do this! I would _never_ have hurt her. Never!"

It was always hard when a young person died, but Carrie Sue had been so full of life. Matt shared a sad look with the sheriff, before turning back to Doc. "Do you know when?"

"Sometime this morning. Early, I'd say."

"I was still passed out, Marshal. Just ask Cletus. He'll tell you." Trick's gaze bounced from one lawman to the other, seeking mercy. "Ask him!"

"Are you sure, Doc?" The old man nodded and Matt turned back to the sheriff. Daken couldn't mask his disappointment. It wasn't that he wanted Trick to be guilty. It was just that this young man was the last of the six suspected men off the Pueblo stage—and his last chance to catch the killer of his child.

Dillon turned back to the anxious young man. "I don't have to ask Cletus. You're in the clear, at least for these murders." Matt towered over the cowboy. "But, Hocum, for your sake, I hope you didn't drink up all your money, 'cause you're gonna need a stake to buy a horse. I don't want to know about Denver, or Tillerman, or anything else. I just want you out of Dodge—by sundown."

Trick backed away, his head bobbing wildly, as he readily agreed to all of the marshal's terms.

 **TBC**


	11. Chapter 11 - Welcome Back Rafe

**Four Days From Pueblo**

 **Chapter 11**

 **Welcome Back Rafe**

The Dodge City grapevine was already buzzing about the big-shot railroad man that had just got into town. Rumor had it he was looking for the marshal, to talk to him about a missing employee.

The image in the mirror, staring back at the handsome man, searched its memory for a name. Before Neivens, he had killed that man in Tucson—and become Cliff Donders. In Albuquerque, he was resurrected as Jobe Killey. A smile took the corner of his mouth upward when he remembered being Crick Parsons, way back in Carson City. He dug even deeper, searching for his given name; it would serve until he could latch onto another new identity.

He turned again to the face in the mirror. "Well, Rafe Bronson…. Welcome back."

Dodge had been a little disappointing. With all the correspondence between Neivens and Kitty Dillon, he'd banked on his ability to worm his way into her life quickly. Of course, the letters never mentioned a husband—and not just any husband, but a U.S. Marshal. That did sour things a bit; although, she had made good cover for him, while he entertained himself with those other ladies. Still, he hated to leave one alive. That just kind of stuck in his craw.

Rafe threw most of Neivens' belonging into the dead man's carpetbag. He strapped the latch shut and tossed the whole thing into the corner of his hotel room. The rest, he placed into his bedroll, then headed down to Grimmick's stable.

"Moss, could you get my horse ready? I'm going to be leaving town." Rafe handed his roll to the old man. "Pay ya a little extra to pack this."

Moss took the bedroll and nodded. "Did you get your business all done?"

"Didn't quite work out like I planned." His answer was honest, but misleading. Just as he was about to leave, he saw something familiar. "Is that Kitty Dillon's buggy?"

Grimmick cast a glance over his shoulder. "Yeah. She rode in with Doc Adams. I think she's over at the jail. Did you have more railroad business with her?"

Rafe's smile was slow in coming, but once it arrived, it clearly displayed the man's excitement. "Now that you mention it, I do have one more piece of business to settle with her." He gave Moss a nod and turned to leave.

 **DODGECITYJAILDODGECITYJAIL**

Kitty poured out that nasty black liquid that Matt somehow called coffee. She then cleaned out the pot, which by the looks of it was probably a virgin washing. She scooped in an acceptable amount of grounds and soon the office was filled with an enticing aroma. A proud smile crossed her lips when she thought about how pleased her marshal was going to be.

For a few minutes she contemplated sweeping out the office, but that might just be the start of a bigger job than she was prepared to take on. No, the coffee would be enough. She took a seat behind Matt's desk and began to straighten up the scattered papers.

Kitty sat, going through the wanted posters, studying each depraved face. She was so absorbed in the descriptions and crimes, that she jumped when someone tapped on the window. A weary breath escaped when she recognized Shayne Neivens. He hadn't been able to explain why, at least not to her satisfaction, but the railroad had reexamined the specs and decided against the acquisition.

For a moment, she thought about ignoring him, but on second thought figured it wasn't his fault that the Kansas Pacific Railroad changed their minds. Opting to be a gracious loser, she crossed the room and slid back the bolt to grant him entrance. "Shayne, what brings you by today?"

Kitty failed to notice the man's quick scan of Front Street before he stepped into the jail. "I have good news, actually." Shayne quickly closed the door behind him. Being here was risky at this point, but the thought of leaving this woman untouched was more than he could bear. "The railroad realized their mistake and have now agreed to the purchase."

Kitty whirled around so quickly, that Shayne had to reach out to steady her. "Really? They did?" She could feel her heart pounding with excitement. Maybe her hard work had paid off after all. "When…when can we close the deal?"

"Right now! Let's go over to the land office and get the papers signed and registered." He gave her forearm a gentle tug. The eagerness in his voice was genuine, it just originated from a different source.

Bright blue eyes sparkled with excitement only momentarily, before reality set in. Kitty had promised Doc that she would stay in the jail and he was already upset with her for tricking him. "I think I should wait until Doc gets back."

Rafe had been at this game for a long time and knew exactly how to mask his anxiousness with a cool outer façade. "We're only going down the street. You can keep an eye on the jail and when you see Doc coming, we'll come back." He applied the faintest bit of pressure as he pulled her toward the door. "Kitty, we really need to get this deal signed, before they change their minds again."

She wasn't as skilled at hiding her apprehension. Kitty chewed on the corner of her lip, while blue eyes darted around the small room. "Well, I suppose if I watch for him from across the street..."

"Of course we can." He applied just enough pressure to get her to move out onto the boardwalk. With a quick glance at the empty street, Rafe hustled her toward the land office. Unlike his innocent prey, the bogus railroad man had seen the marshal and a very small gathering in front of the clinic when he came from the Dodge House.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMKMK**

Calleigh pulled her buggy up to rail in front of the jail. Before going down to the clinic to lock up for the day, she was going to try to get her dad to take her over to the Prairie Rose for a piece of pie and cup of coffee. She tossed the reins over the post and rushed into the old office.

The moment of disappointment in discovering an empty room, quickly vanished beneath the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Her small button nose pointed upward, pulling in the intoxicating scent. "Who learned how to make coffee?"

On second thought, _who_ made it really didn't matter. She snatched a cup from the top of the safe, poured, then impatiently blew into the hot liquid. The first taste was not disappointing. Calleigh hoisted herself up onto her dad's desk, facing the window.

Newly was going to be upset that she had driven back from the McGregor farm alone. When he left her at the clinic, she had promised to keep the door locked when she was alone and she had done just that. The problem came when Pud McGregor came pounding on the clinic door, that his pa had fallen off the top of the barn and couldn't get up. Mostly, it had just knocked the wind out him. He was going to be sore for a couple of days, but luckily, nothing was broken.

For just a split second, Calleigh considered asking Pud to ride back into town with her. But, as she took a closer look at the bucktoothed, gangly teenager, she figured he would probably need more protecting than she would, if trouble crossed their path.

She was thumbing through the stack of posters, when the heavy wooden door opened. Calleigh slid off the desk, her hand cautiously drifting close to her gun.

The man's face was unfamiliar, but his wardrobe screamed dude. He was a portly man with chubby cheeks that reminded Calleigh of a squirrel storing food for the winter. Connecting the two cheeks was a pencil-thin moustache, with a matching goatee. The young woman was surprised when she stood up, to see he wasn't more than a couple of inches taller than she was.

"May I help you?" Calleigh had listened to the lectures from every man at the LadyK and Double O, about trusting no one until the murderer was caught—and she really did pay attention, but somehow she just couldn't picture this little man killing all those women.

"My name is Ralph Cornelius. I'm the C.E.O. of Kansas Pacific Railroad." He paused, seemingly puzzled by the young lady with a gun. "Are you… Kitty Dillon?"

"No. I'm her daughter." She moved her hand from the safety of her gun and reached out to shake his hand. "Dr. Calleigh O'Brian." She could see his brows draw together, as he stared at her sidearm. "I go into some pretty isolated parts of the countryside. It's best to be prepared." He seemed completely satisfied with her explanation. " This must be about the land purchase that my mother—Mrs. Dillon—put together?"

"It is; but my purpose today is actually twofold." He paused for a moment to inhale the lingering aroma. "I just got off the stage and…well, I wonder if I could get a cup of that?" Calleigh quickly obliged his request, as he continued with his story. "I am here to find out what is impeding the sale. We would like to close this transaction as soon as possible. And…I also seemed to have lost a field agent."

She handed the railroad executive the cup, which he so gratefully accepted. "That would be Shayne Neivens?"

"Yes. You've met him?" He offered a satisfied smile as he took another drink of the coffee.

"Briefly. My mother introduced us. You say he's missing?" Calleigh motioned for him to have a seat. She quickly decided it would be more professional to sit behind her dad's desk than on top of it.

Cornelius squirmed around in the hardback chair, searching for a comfortable spot. "The last time I heard from him, he was planning on leaving Pueblo, to come to Dodge. Neivens had been corresponding with Mrs. Dillon for several weeks and it should only have taken a day, two at most, to get all of the paperwork done."

Calleigh's curious nature peaked at those words. With a single word, she expressed her suspicions. " _Really_?" So maybe Poppy was right and all those lunch dates and drives out to check out the proposed site, weren't on the up-and-up. She struggled to keep the mischievous grin at bay. "Well, he does cut quite a handsome figure. Maybe he found other interests while here in Dodge."

The stout, middle-aged man stared at Calleigh again, with a strange mix of curiosity and doubt. "Neivens? Handsome?" Giant, round eyes peered over the top of his wire-rim glasses.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply any misconduct on his part. I just meant, he is an attractive man and-"

Cornelius held up his hand to stop her. "Shayne Neivens has worked for me for almost fifteen years. He's a devoted employee. He's conscientious, reliable…I could go on, but the one thing he is not…is handsome." He paused and his tone became troubled. "What does _your_ Shayne Neivens look like?"

This unexpected turn in the conversation caused a chill to ripple down the young woman's spine. There was scarcely a trace of her grin as she rose slowly from the chair and eased her way around to the front of the desk. "About thirty-five. Tall, muscular build, black… curly…hair-" The skeptical expression on the railroad man's face, caused her to hesitate. "That's not him …is it?"

"No ma'am. Shayne is not more than five-six. By standards out here, I guess you would call him a 'milquetoast'." Now, it was his turn to pause, as he watched the color drain from the young doctor's face. "And… he's as bald as a billiard ball."

"Oh my gosh!" Calleigh's blue eyes flashed wide. "The sixth man!"

 **TBC**


	12. Chapter 12 - Dodge City Land Office

**Four Days From Pueblo**

 **Chapter 12**

 **Dodge City Land Office**

Rafe pushed the door open and stepped aside to let Kitty pass. "We can have this all wrapped up and then maybe I can buy you some dinner."

Kitty caught a glimpse of Jess Warner, back behind the counter. She nodded to him, just as he turned around to place some ledgers back on the shelf. "I really can't, but I do appreciate the offer."

Neivens gave Front Street one last glance and then closed the door behind them. He was pleased to see that Jess was still stacking the ledgers and Kitty was walking toward the counter. Rafe quickly turned the lock, flipped over the ' _Closed'_ sign and pulled down the shade.

When Jess turned back toward his customers, he was puzzled at the sight of the shade being down. It was his curious expression that caught Kitty's attention. But before she could turn to find the source, Rafe had stepped up behind her and brought his pistol across the back of her head.

Jess's eyes darted to the gun he kept under the counter, but Rafe was way ahead of him. He jumped the counter and came down on the small-framed land agent. Again, he used his weapon, without firing a shot. It looked like this one he may have hit too hard.

Oh well, killing was killing—male or female—and Rafe didn't waste any sympathy on the dead man. It was just as well; he didn't need any distractions from his real target. Rafe quickly ran around the counter and snatched the unconscious woman up into his arms. As he disappeared into the back room, a twisted smile surfaced. He really had enjoyed playing with those other three women, but this one…this one was special. The Marshal's Wife! The vile snicker that followed, was a perfect match to his smile.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMKMKMK**

Doc walked along with Matt and Daken, headed back down Front Street toward the jail. "I'm sorry, Cord. I know you wanted this settled. We'll keep looking; I promise you that. I won't give up."

Daken offered the closest thing he still had to a smile. "I know you will, Matt and I appreciate all your help. I got a telegram from my boy. They gave her nice service." He glanced up at the big man. "You must think I'm a terrible father, to go running off like I did, instead of staying behind for my little girl."

Matt shook his head, disagreeing. "Sadly, I do know what's driving you. Believe it or not, I've been where you are and made similar choices. It took me a lot of years to learn to take care of the living first."

"I loved that little…" Pain cracked the normally husky voice, splintering the words. He swallowed hard, trying to work past it. "…little girl. She…uh…looked so much like her mother. Now, I… I've lost 'em both."

The three men had almost reached the jail, when the wooden door burst open and Calleigh came flying out. Matt's brows furrowed, bringing a scowl to his face, as he watched his daughter look first one direction and then another, until she caught sight of him. All three men could see the excitement on her face, as she charged at them.

Calleigh was spitting out words almost as fast as her feet were chewing up the boardwalk. "I know who he is! That guy…that Neivens. He's an imposter. He must have killed the real Neivens! That's the only thing that makes sense." She turned her fervor onto the sheriff. "Mr. Daken, I'm pretty sure he's the man that killed your daughter."

Doc had remained silent all during Calleigh's supposition. Fear was reaching up inside him, stretching its icy tentacles around his heart. When he did speak, his voice was so faint it couldn't compete with her excitable utterances. "Wait."

"Do you think he's still in town?" Her exhilaration was palatable.

"Doc cleared his throat to try again. "Wait, now…."

"I'll check the Dodge House. Calleigh, go see Moss. See if his horse is still there." Matt had already begun to back step toward the hotel. "Cord, why don't you go back to the jail and see if you can learn anything else from that guy.

" **Damn it! Wait**!" The anger in his words stopped the little group cold. All eyes were on the old physician as he nervously rubbed at his moustache. He turned his frightened eyes back toward the girl. "Where is Kitty?"

His words draped over her body like a sheet of ice, suffocating her excitement. "What? What do you mean?" Even before he answered, her mind flashed back to the coffee. Now she knew—who had made that wonderful brew. Calleigh swallowed hard, the bitter taste of fear washing away the thrill of her discovery. "She was at the jail?" Heavy lids covered ocean blue eyes, as she prayed to be wrong.

"I brought her into town to meet you." Doc's eyes met with Matt's. "When I went down to check the wagon with Tuke, I made her lock the door. I even waited until I heard the bolt slide into place. Buck was outside and we figured you would be right back." He tugged anxiously at his earlobe. "But, I'll bet she would have opened the door for Neivens, without giving it a second thought."

In the split-second glance, shared by father and daughter, so much was said. They could see the pain in the older man's eyes, as he blamed himself for this terrible new revelation. But there was no time for consolation right now. After…no, _once_ Kitty was safe…then, they would offer Doc comfort.

Calleigh reached out, giving the older man's hand a squeeze before heading off to the livery stable, while Matt ran toward the Dodge House. Within minutes, both returned. Daken, anxiously witnessed Calleigh and Matt's body language and exchange of words, as he and Doc walked back onto Front Street to meet them.

Matt's giant frame was tense, his body rigid with fear. "He's still in town. How long ago did you leave her, Doc?"

"Maybe… half an hour."

Matt looked up and down Front Street. "He couldn't have taken her far. Calleigh, you and Cord take this side of the street. Doc, you come with me."

The two teams quickly started down the dirt thoroughfare. The four driven people were weaving in and out of shops, stores and alleys, like worker ants scavenging through the leftovers at a picnic.

 **DodgeCityLandOfficeDodgeCityLandOffice**

A retching cough ripped into the quiet of the empty room. Slowly, Kitty Dillon tried to work her way back from the murky darkness that had sucked her into its clutches. There was pressure. Something heavy was on her chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. Pain shot through her again when she tried to swallow.

Slowly the world came back into view. However, it was not a world Kitty wanted to be in. Her head was spinning and she felt nauseous, but she was finally able to focus in on the body leaning over her.

"Welcome back!" Rafe grinned down, as his fingers played at the tender skin around her neck. "I was wondering how long it would take. Some women are really slow at coming back to me." He could see the confusion in Kitty's eyes. It was too soon to be marred with terror, as she had not really come to understand what was happening to her.

Kitty tried to speak, but her efforts only produced a rasping sound. She tried to move, to push the maniac off her body, but her hands were pinned beneath her. Now, terror was beginning to seep into her bright, blue eyes, overpowering the confusion.

"The name is Rafe." He smiled again, while his fingers continued to play at her throat—only teasing now, until he was ready to send her back to that black, God-forsaken abyss. "I wanted to thank you for all those letters you wrote to Shayne." He gently squeezed her throat now, just enough to encourage a bout of coughing. "It made me feel like we were old friends."

The deranged man stroked Kitty's cheek with the gentleness of a lover. The simple act, caused a perverse glaze to sweep across his eyes, as his fingers stretched around the tender flesh once again. His salacious laugh was the last sound Kitty heard, before once again sinking into the agonizing blackness, away from everyone and thing that she loved.

 **TBC**


	13. Chapter 13 - Discovered

**Four Days From Pueblo**

 **Chapter 13**

 **Discovered**

Calleigh and Daken were on their way back to the center of the street, when she noticed something odd. "What time is it, Daken?"

He reached into his pocket to retrieve his pocket watch. "Almost two. Why?"

There seemed to be a sudden urgency in the young woman's step, as she started across the street. "Jess Warner has never gone to lunch this late, in the fifteen years I've known him. So, why would his office be closed now?" Her gait broke into a run, with Daken right on her heels.

Calleigh tried the lock, then pulled her gun, shattering the glass all over the floor inside the entryway. Matt and Doc appeared, just as she reached through the jagged shards of glass to turn the lock.

With Calleigh and Daken in the lead, the foursome exploded into the small waiting area in front of the counter. Nothing looked out of place, but there was an unusual stillness in the room. Matt stepped closer to the counter, only to discover Jess's lifeless body.

It was hard to say which one entered the back room first, but it was Matt that dropped to his knees beside his wife. A rasping breath escaped, as Kitty fought for air. Calleigh felt her heart beat again, as she knelt down beside her mother.

In the next few seconds, father and daughter once again exchanged a look that said many things. Both realized that the back door to the office was flapping open. Both also realized that Cord Daken had taken off in pursuit of the killer. To be more precise… _his daughter's killer_.

"Doc is here for your mother." Matt told his daughter. "Go. Help Daken."

 **DakenDakenDakenDaken**

Rafe had heard the glass breaking on the front door and knew it was time for him to go. He was disappointed that he couldn't finish the job on the gorgeous redhead, but he was able to accept it gracefully. "You win some, you lose some."

Getting to the livery stable was his objective now. His horse was ready and all he had to do was ride out. The crafty young man carefully worked his way down the alley, until he could see the sign—Grimmicks. A few more feet and he'd be home free….

Daken suspected that the imposter's horse was saddled too. He was close enough to see the man slip into the stable. A few more steps and he was standing in the doorway."Don't bother mounting that horse. You aren't going anywhere."

Rafe turned slowly, coming face-to-face with the grieving father. He cautiously stepped away from the bay. "You're that sheriff, from Pueblo."

"I am." Daken's response was flat, his voice heavy.

As usual, Rafe's mind was racing for a way out. Neivens had been carrying quite a bit of money. Maybe he could buy his way out. "I'm guessing you don't make a lot of money at that job."

"I make enough to support myself—and my daughter, Chloe."

It wasn't often that Rafe was caught off guard, but this burly man had managed to throw him off his game. _Damn!_ That last little blonde in Pueblo was the sheriff's daughter? He could tell by the rage in the lawman's eyes, that there was no buying his way out of this one.

Slowly, Rafe reached down with his left hand and undid the buckle on his belt. The holster fell to the ground, as he raised both hands in the air. "I'm unarmed, Sheriff. I'll take my chances in a courtroom."

Daken maintained a cold, hard stare at the prisoner. "No you won't. I don't care whether you're armed, or not. This is the end of the line for you."

Rafe's cool, grey eyes grew black with fear, when he heard the hammer being pulled back. He winced when he heard the shot, but there was no pain. In amazement, he watched as the sheriff uttered a loud curse, his gun dropping to the ground.

Daken grabbed his hand, holding the bloody appendage next to his chest. There was more hate emanating from his face, than confusion. He didn't care about the pain, he only cared that the man that killed his daughter was still alive. Although he was dominated by hate, a sliver of surprise did enter in, when he saw the shooter.

Calleigh carefully approached the wounded man. "Let me take a look at that."

Daken was not ready to concede his intentions yet. "No! Just get out of here. I need to finish this."

"It's finished, Sheriff. The law will take care of him now."

Although it wouldn't be a life-altering wound, it was enough to thwart his chances of firing again today.

A flash of hope was not only evident in Rafe's eyes but in his curled lips as well. He couldn't believe he was about to owe his life to a woman. With the gun resting at his feet, he was confident that he could grab it, while the old man was distracted by the young redhead, Rafe enjoyed a triumphant smile.

Calleigh was just getting ready to examine Daken's hand, when she saw the movement out of the corner of her eye. Rafe Bronson stood a better chance of beating the hangman than he did of outdrawing the redheaded gunslinger. The second she saw him dive for that gun, her weapon was drawn and fired. The triumphant smile lingered on the dead man's face.

Calleigh walked over to the imposter, to verify he was dead, then turned back to the sheriff. "We need to get back to the land office."

Daken understood her sense of urgency to get back to her mother. He felt slightly ashamed that he had caused her to leave the woman's side.

 **DodgeCityLandOfficeDodgeCityLandOffice**

Calleigh was relieved, but not surprised, to find Kitty nestled safely in the marshal's arms. Doc was trying to finish his examination, despite the big man's interference.

Doc? Is she gonna be all right?" Matt could see the ugly marks around her neck, marks that would soon make the transition from scarlet to purple-blue. "Look at those! Why is she so quiet? Why can't she talk?"

"Maybe because you won't shut up long enough to let her!" Matt wasn't deterred at all by the older man's ill-tempered response. The two men looked down into the beloved woman's tired, blue eyes and exhausted smile. Doc patted her hand, his eyes full of love. "She's going to have a mighty sore throat. It will take a few days for the swelling and bruising to go away."

Calleigh knelt down beside them. "So, you won't be able to talk, huh?" Neither her playful grin, nor the amusement in her voice, could mask the concern in her eyes. The young doctor leaned forward to leave a kiss on her mother's temple.

Matt stood up with his wife in his arms, as he confronted Calleigh and Daken. He knew the killer was dead, his question was—how? Even though he was dreading the answer, he directed his question to the sheriff. "Did you kill him?"

Daken shook his head and held up his injured hand. "She did." He glanced over at the diminutive redhead. "She shot me, too." A grateful smile worked its way to his weary lips. "Thank you—for stopping me from making a _terrible_ mistake."

Calleigh stepped closer and put an arm around the lawman. "Just repaying an old debt, so to speak. I got shot once, by someone that cared for me, too."

Cord Daken let his eyes wander over this battered group of people. "That's a…mighty strange family custom."

A knowing look passed between the members of the Dodge City clan. Calleigh winked at her loved ones, before confessing, "Well, Sheriff, we are—truly—a mighty strange family."

 **TBC**


	14. Chapter 14 - Epilogue: Wild Flowers

**Four Days From Pueblo**

 **Chapter 14: Epilogue**

 **Wild Flowers**

The Marshal's homecoming greeting to his family was met with only silence. He walked through the house, quickly searching each room, but it was a fruitless journey that finally ended at the backdoor. As he stepped outside, his focus was drawn to the lazy form of Dodge City's oldest physician, peacefully stretched out on the Keywood wicker chaise. With hands folded across his chest, he appeared the very essence of a retired old gentleman. Matt opted to see a different scenario.

"Well. I was afraid you've been overworking yourself." Matt shoved his Stetson back on his head. "Glad to see you've decided to take it easy today. Can I get you anything? Cup a coffee? Maybe-"

"Oh, shut up!" Doc swiped at his moustache and shot a searing look at the man interrupting his peace. "I wouldn't expect an overpaid civil servant to understand _quality time_."

"Quality time! Is that what they call it now?"

"Yes it is, and if you don't shut up, that bellowing you call _talk_ is going to spoil everything. Sit down and be quiet! You might just learn something."

Matt pulled the matching wicker rocker up next to the old man and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "What—exactly—are we doing?"

Doc blew out an agitated breath and scrubbed his face again. "Look, up there..." Matt followed the weathered old finger of his friend, as it pointed to the patch of wildflowers on the hill behind the springhouse.

It was a beautiful blend of Kansas' natural offerings: Patches of purple prairie violets, endless clumps of great blue lobelia, handfuls of vivid pink sweet pea and swirling through it all—to pull it together—endless strips of white phlox. All were mingled in the foot-high wild grass.

The marshal leaned back in his chair. "So, this is quality time." He murmured with a smile. The scenery was breathtaking, but it was the two redheads playing on the floral canvas that had captured his attention…and his heart.

They were chasing each other through the pastels. One would chase for a while and then for no apparent reason—they would switch roles. The same gentle breeze that ruffled through the grass, carried with it the melody of their giggling and laughter.

Kitty suddenly reached down, plucking Hadley from the bed of flowers and twirled her around. Squeals of laughter erupted into the air, just before they both playfully dropped to the ground.

Doc glanced over at his young friend. "They're beautiful, aren't they?"

Matt chuckled softly. "They truly are, Doc." He continued to watch his family, wondering why he had been blessed enough to be a part of this. "The way she just shakes off the ugliness that tries to worm its way into our lives..."

"As much as I hate to give you credit, she would never have gotten to experience this much happiness if you hadn't finally come to your senses."

"Well, we both know she could have had her pick of husbands."

Doc cast Matt a scathing glance. "She _could have,_ but we both know—she wouldn't. What she ever saw in you, I have no idea; but who can figure out women?"

Matt laughed again. "For a minute there, you were actually being nice to me."

"Believe me—it was an oversight... Now you've gone and ruined everything! They're coming down!"

Kitty held Hadley's hand most of the way down the hill, to keep her from falling. When they reached level ground, she released the squirming child, granting her freedom to run to her daddy.

Matt leaned forward in his chair, preparing for the onslaught of the tiny tornado.

"Fwoers, daddy!" Her objective seemed obvious at first, but then she stopped suddenly and looked at the two men. After a couple of minutes of very serious thought, Hadley tore the bouquet in half, giving some to each. "Hewr, Poppy." Pleased with her solution, she rocked back on her heels, as she wiped her hands on her bright yellow smock.

Hadley beamed happily, as both men showered her with gratitude. Still in a gracious mood, she gave each of them a kiss. Doc pulled himself from his leisurely position and picked up the girl. "I think I know where momma hid the jelly beans." This announcement prompted another squeal of delight.

Matt pulled himself from his chair and walked over to meet his wife as she approached the house. He held out his arms and she slid comfortably into his embrace. "You two looked mighty pretty up there."

Kitty stretched up to give her husband a kiss. "I would have thought the Marshal had better things to do, than watch a couple of girls playing in the grass."

"Trust me." He stopped to leave a quick kiss. "There is _nothing_ better than this. I love you."

Kitty laced her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a much more serious kiss. "You're right." She murmured. "There is… _nothing..._ better than this."

 **FIN**


End file.
